


Illuminating the Shadows

by Aelaer



Series: Earth-197320 [4]
Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: (about equally), (with potential exception to Thaddeus Ross but he was a bad guy in The Hulk so that's okay), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Developing Friendships, Gen, Getting to Know Each Other, In This Fic We Love And Cherish All Canon Characters, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, POV Stephen Strange, POV Tony Stark, Slow burn friendship, Sokovia Accords, gaining trust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:42:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 58,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28081845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aelaer/pseuds/Aelaer
Summary: Stephen and Tony begin their partnership together to hunt down and capture Stephen's villainous counterpart. As they devise ways both technological and arcane to find him, they get to know each other further, and go through significant steps in both gaining each other's trust.But can they start working together fast enough to track down the evil Strange before he strikes again?(Starring Stephen and Tony with Rhodey, Wong, and Vision in major supporting roles. The rest are cameos.)
Relationships: James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Stephen Strange, James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Stephen Strange & Vision, Stephen Strange & Wong, Tony Stark & Stephen Strange, Tony Stark & Wong
Series: Earth-197320 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1497917
Comments: 114
Kudos: 79





	1. Prologue: The Story Thus Far

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I was rereading my series and realized that I was forgetting some of the small details I wrote in my world-building, I figured it was very much appropriate to include a series summary for any returning readers who do not want to reread the previous 50,000 words. It has been some time since the last story was published.
> 
> (Still a much better record than GRRM though. For no money, at that :P)
> 
> If you're a brand new reader, it's highly recommended you start from the beginning of the series as this is a direct continuation from the last story.

In the summer of 2018, Stephen Strange of an unknown reality has an accident with the Cauldron of the Cosmos that throws him into another reality. Throughout the first story of the series, _Within the Shadows_ , Stephen of another reality learns of the many differences between his home reality and the one he is in now.

From Wong he learns that his counterpart went rogue some months after his encounter with Dormammu, that particular event being the suspected catalyst that led to his turning. His counterpart, Strange, battled many of the acolytes of Kamar-Taj in mid-2017, causing several of them to die and the rest to scatter and hide while Kamar-Taj was sealed from the physical plane. The Sanctums still remain within Strange's control, as the remaining sorcerers do not have the numbers to spare to fight for them while keeping up with their normal world-guarding duties. Strange, in the meanwhile, continues to gather all sources of natural and man-made power he can to increase his magical might in order to protect reality, or so he claims.

This quest led to a showdown in early 2018 in Stark Industries' Los Angeles branch when he tried to steal several arc reactors. The botched theft led CEO Pepper Potts to be attacked and fall into a coma that has no scientifically known cause. Her fiance, Tony Stark, started his search for the unknown perpetrator immediately. The remaining Avengers are technically barred from involvement in anything serious like this, as lawsuits and court cases are being argued in the halls of law across various countries over the legality of the Sokovia Accords at this time. The government doesn't want them involved until it's all settled. This doesn't stop Tony, however, and with help from both Rhodey and Vision, he figures out who was behind the attack at Stark Industries and, eventually, where Strange is hiding.

About the same time, Stephen makes it his own quest to stop Strange after a few weeks of helping out Wong and the remaining sorcerers. He finds his base and steals from him several canisters filled with uranium that Strange had stolen from various nuclear power plants across the globe over the last year. He successfully gets these away before he's attacked by Strange.

Stephen rejects Strange's offer to join him and they battle, but Strange has a clear upper hand. He badly wounds Stephen and is about to kill him when Iron Man and the War Machine intervene, as happenstance (or fate) has them attacking the hideout the same night as Stephen. Strange makes his escape, and the first story ends with Tony and Rhodey working to save Stephen's life as they bring him back to the Compound to question him, all the while the greater world remains unaware of their actions.

 _Inhibited Lodgings_ starts in October 2018 with Stephen waking up as a patient/prisoner at the Compound. In his injured state, he nearly forgets that he is in another reality, where we are reminded of another crucial difference between Stephen's original reality and this one: the Tony Stark of his own reality never became Iron Man, and is suspected by the Order of the Masters of the Mystic Arts to be behind several nefarious deeds, including murder. While this version of Tony Stark is nowhere close to the one in the reality he currently resides in, it's a thought that lingers in the back of Stephen's mind.

However, Tony continues to prove to Stephen that he is nothing like the Stark Stephen is used to, showing a compassionate nature for the injured man, despite the eccentric way he sometimes shows it. They bond over various topics, and during this time we learn that Stephen lost his Cloak of Levitation in battle earlier in the year, back in his own reality.

Regardless of the bonding between them, Stephen is not willing to wait for Tony to trust him enough to release him as Strange is still out there. He plans on breaking the magic-prevention cuffs Tony put on him as soon as he feels physically able. These magic-halting cuffs, due to originally lacking the necessary data, have no effect on Stephen's astral form. So while Stephen's physical body is being treated by Dr Cho and a very small team, he takes his astral body out to explore a few times and make his plans.

Unfortunately, several days into his recovery and near the point where he is looking for his most likely escape route, he bumps into Vision. Vision can see his astral form and immediately tells Tony. The two men argue and a new strain falls onto their relationship. Before it can be mended, Wong portals into Stephen's room soon after and he disappears.

As Stephen learned in the first story, there are many contacts and friends of the Order that helped keep them afloat in virulent times, as well as help them keep eyes and ears in the mundane world. It was one of these contacts that leads Wong to find Stephen, and another contact, a surly Argentinian named Jose, who helps dismantle the cuffs.

About a week later, Tony is contacted by Stephen who proposes an alliance to stop Strange. It takes some back and forth, but eventually they agree that the five of them—Stephen, Wong, Tony, Rhodey, and Vision—will work together to stop this rogue sorcerer before he grows in power.

The third story in the series, _Standing on the Edge, Face Up_ , is a one-shot from Tony's view point that tells us exactly how this first meeting between parties goes. In early November, they meet at a neutral location, a local diner in New York City. During lunch they set parameters and feel each other out. In this conversation, Stephen tells Wong about his lost cloak, which seems to be news to Wong. Tony also speaks about the sensors he's been working on ever since Strange attacked SI, and how he's been able to recalibrate them to sense portal magic since Wong made a portal in the compound to first rescue Stephen. While one of the materials for the sensors is hard to come by, even for him, Tony wants Stephen to place the few he made around the world in the most likely spots Strange would visit.

After lunch, Wong leads the party, as agreed, to where they've hidden the uranium they stole from Strange, which is a thousand meters underground in Antarctica. Stephen separates briefly as they do so to go to one of the more ancient holdings of the sorcerers in Tibet. The others soon join him to start planning the logistics in how to capture Strange.

This place in Tibet is also where several relics rescued from Kamar-Taj and the Sanctums now lie. Stephen, in the few minutes he had alone in the sanctuary, meets the Cloak of Levitation from this reality. The Cloak, which had ignored his counterpart, immediately takes a shine to him and chooses him, just as its counterparts across realities do.

This story opens up not too long after the forging of this alliance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The actual first chapter I plan to have up in the next 24 to 48 hours, but just pushing the prologue is sort of a litmus test to see how much of my audience from the series is still present, since it's been a year since the third story. The story is fully written with draft 2 finished, but I still have a bit of editing to do and I just need to see if I can take my time editing future chapters because there's not many readers this month or if there's a lot of interest and I should hurry up with the last of the edits and polish. So if you're here and eager for more, say 'hi' and/or click the kudos button to indicate interest. Regardless, Chapter One will be up shortly. :)


	2. Rekindle the Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As with all fics in this series, this fic is a direct continuation of the events from the last story and will make no sense if you haven't read the previous stories. You can start with the series at _Within the Shadows_ , which is what I recommend rather than just going off the prologue if you're new here.
> 
> Laws vary significantly from country to country; because the Avengers primarily operate on US soil, and almost all Avengers in 2018 are US citizens, when it comes to world-building and attempting to determine the natural course of the Accords if Thanos hadn't nuked the universe, the characters will be discussing it from primarily a US law viewpoint. That said, there will definitely be acknowledgment that the rest of the world exists, in what ways fit in the narrative of the story. 
> 
> Real world current political events and real world modern politicians up to 2018 will absolutely **not** feature here because real world politics are a headache and fan fiction is my happy place. I'd say the politics and economic fluctuations start going almost all fictional for the last decade; you can probably reference events up to 2008 from our world if you want background info before history starts in a fictional direction, especially in the political and economic realms. Pop culture's largely the same as you know it.
> 
> Lastly, I owe a great debt of gratitude to my beta, nemmy. She helped push my writing further in several spots within the story, and helped me with tough spots that I'm not sure I would have been able to conquer without her assistance. In other words, you very much may not have had this story without her presence. Thank you, my friend.

It was the Monday of the last week of November. Thanksgiving and Black Friday had passed and in the outside world, normal people around the state of New York were getting ready for Christmas, enduring the occasional rain showers throughout the weekend to get the necessary shopping for whatever they needed.

At least, that's what Tony supposed most Americans did around this time of year. His frame of reference was largely reliant on what he saw on TV (whether it was films or the insanity of the Black Friday sales crowds on the local news). But Tony Stark was not and never had been a normal American, and at that moment he had everything but the holidays on his mind.

"All's still clear, boss," FRIDAY said, voice echoing around the workshop within the basement of the Compound. "No spyware or unknown surveillance programs have been detected within the Compound's systems."

"Which means Ross is still in the dark," Tony said with a soft smirk. "Good."

After coming to an accord with (the good) Stephen Strange and Wong, Tony had made more modifications to the Avengers Compound security systems to continue to keep Secretary Ross and all of his underlings completely unaware of the existence of Stephen From Another Universe. Tony created the original system override nearly two years ago after Ross started going after him about Spider-Man, and that was a situation that still made him… made him something. Annoyed, definitely, of course annoyed. Ross was always annoying. But there was something else it made him that he wasn't sure how to label, a feeling that made him a bit uncomfortable and so he shoved it away along with everything that had to do with Sokovia and the Accords thereafter.

God, he probably needed more therapy. Loads of it.

But after Ross's unwanted scrutiny, Tony spent all of his spare time making the Avengers Compound as surveillance-proof as possible without the bigwigs in the CIA, FBI, NSA, and the other alphabet soups of the US government actually realizing he was doing it. Despite the reasoning for it, it proved to be an enjoyable project because it was one of Tony's most challenging in years. Indeed, he considered it a challenge on par with the first miniature arc reactor back in a cave in Afghanistan (though the stakes in that project were significantly higher, naturally).

And so with the surveillance system override completed about a year and a half ago, it took only a matter of a couple weeks after his agreement with Stephen and Wong to make it so that they could portal into the basement workshop with absolutely no one but FRIDAY being all the wiser. And FRIDAY was not only decidedly on Tony's side, but also on a separate system that allowed her to oversee everything happening in the Compound. Furthermore, her system did not allow any system to connect or send data to her without Tony's command.

(He learned that lesson the hard way with JARVIS. He didn't like to think much about JARVIS, either, because his loss still made him ache in a way he couldn't explain, and his thoughts inevitably led to Ultron and Sokovia and the shitshow thereafter. Best not to think about it at all if he could help it.)

And with the workshop made sorcerer-friendly (which wasn't his first choice for the wizard landing bay, but Rhodey and Vision had way too many good points for him to go against just because of _feelings_ about his workshop space), Tony had reached out to Stephen via the phone number the sorcerer had provided. They needed to have their first meeting and discuss how many of the magic-reading sensors had been planted, and where. Tony had given him fourteen of the fifteen he had created, and naturally they all were connected to GPS, but that didn't establish their exact location to the inch, which is exactly what Tony wanted. There was also the very slim chance of one of them having faulty readings, so it was better to double check their locations with Stephen.

Thus, the text message telling him that security was good to go at the Compound and that they needed to meet face-to-face. It was better not to discuss some of these things over the phone if one could help it, no matter how much faith he had in his security.

He's had enough humbling experiences to realize that even sometimes his measures fail.

Tony thought it may take a few hours for Stephen to reply to his text; he figured the sorcerer could be busy doing whatever the hell sorcerers did to supposedly protect the world. But when twelve, then eighteen, then twenty-four hours passed with no response, he began to grow more and more antsy about this arrangement. How the hell were the sensors going to be effective in any way if Stephen took this long to reply to a text?

About twenty-eight hours after the text, Tony finally got a message from him.

_Sorry for the delayed reply. I'm free now and for the next couple hours if you're available._

_What the hell took you so long?_ he typed and sent before he could think better of it. Tony frowned and then added, _Yeah I'm free now. Workshop's empty._

It took a moment to get the reply. _Can you send a picture of the workshop?_

Is that how portals worked? Via pictures? He refrained from asking at that moment and instead took a picture of a spot in the workshop that left no room for surprises, then sent it off. "We have an incoming guest, FRIDAY. Lock down the basement." Rhodey and Vision weren't currently in the Compound, Rhodey dealing with something military and Vision having taken a 'vacation' for Thanksgiving, not to be back until tomorrow.

( _That_ had been an interesting conversation. Vision was a really bad liar. Tony again dropped a hint that he knew exactly who he was seeing, and Vision again said nothing. He wasn't sure if the android was being willfully or genuinely oblivious, but Tony wasn't quite at the point where he wanted to end this weird game yet and tell him outright that he knew about Wanda.)

Fifteen seconds after sending the photo, a portal appeared right in the middle of the workshop. He'd seen these things a dozen times in person now—had even walked through one three times that one day, from New York to Antarctica to Tibet to New York again—but they still gave him a bad feeling deep in his gut that he couldn't entirely explain.

It was, frankly put, incredibly annoying. It _felt_ like anxiety but it didn't make sense.

 _When did your anxiety need to start making sense?_ taunted a little voice in the back of his head.

 _Shut up_ , he shot at himself, and there was Stephen walking on through the golden circle. The other side of the portal appeared to be in a living room of some sort, but he didn't see much before it closed behind him. On the sorcerer's shoulders was the bright red cloak; he idly wondered if the man ever took it off since being reunited with it.

"You took your time," Tony snarked in greeting.

Stephen frowned. "It hasn't even been a minute since you sent a photo."

"Not the photo, my original text. I can't even remember the last time someone failed to reply to me within twelve hours, never mind twenty-four." Probably Bruce, actually.

And thinking about him and his now three year disappearance made something twinge, too, God damn it all.

"Oh," said Stephen. "Sorry. I needed to add more credits to my plan before I could reply, rather got caught up in something yesterday and only just remembered this morning. It wasn't an emergency, was it?" His brow furrowed in concern.

Tony blinked as he processed his statement. "Credits to your plan?" he asked, somewhat incredulously.

Stephen pressed his lips together into a tight line before answering. "My phone plan. Some of us don't need to be on a phone and connected to the internet all hours of the day, and there _are_ plans that don't require contracts."

"I know what a pay-as-you-go plan is," Tony shot back (thank you, Bruce, for that knowledge). "But why are you bothering with that?"

As it came out of his mouth, he realized that his statement could be easily misconstrued. Lo and behold, Stephen's expression somehow became tighter as he said, "Not everyone in this room inherited billions."

"And created billions, thank you," he said instinctively, "but that's not what I meant. What I meant was—you're working with, as you said, someone with billions. _I can cover a phone plan._ "

"I don't want your charity," Stephen immediately retorted, as if it were instinct.

Tony blinked slowly. "Riiiight, duly noted. Counterpoint: this isn't charity. If we're gonna catch this bastard with the sensors, I need to be able to contact you if they go off and you need to be able to get us to him immediately."

Stephen's brow furrowed. "Us?"

"Yeah, us—hello, Houdini, remember our meeting in Tibet like two weeks ago? We all agreed that even if you and Wong are the only sorcerers involved, we'd want all five of us to confront your evil self because you got your ass handed to you the last time you confronted him."

"That was two weeks ago."

"What do you _mean_ that was—oh, no, I see what you're doing." Tony pointed a finger at him. "Funny. You won't distract me from the phone issue. I'm signing you up under my data plan. I need to reliably contact you without something like _credits_ limiting your ability to communicate with me." He frowned to himself. "And though we should keep anything important off of text messages, your phone's security is probably horrible. Let me see your phone."

Stephen made no move to retrieve said phone. "My phone's fine."

"Really?"

"Yes."

Tony raised his brows. "Are you willing to bet the secrecy of your little LARP group from the US government on that?"

The sorcerer shot him a glare. "My 'little LARP group' has defended the Earth from horrors you cannot begin to imagine."

"I might be able to," said Tony in return. "C'mon. Phone." He patted the desk beside him.

Stephen closed his eyes, clearly exasperated, but dug into a pocket and pulled out a phone that was at least five years old and already outdated the year it was produced and placed it on the desk.

Tony made a face. He grabbed the poor excuse for a phone and walked across the room to a desk where he knew he had a couple new models in one of the drawers (since you never know when someone would need a new phone, especially in his line of work). He heard Stephen follow him, but ignored the sorcerer as he popped off the back of the case and pulled out the SIM card.

"You said you'd check it, not tear it apart." Stephen frowned at him.

"Yeah, but that was before I saw it was a monstrosity that should've been put out of its misery years ago. I can't believe you're using this thing. It should be incinerated."

"The funny thing about coming from another reality," started Stephen dryly, "is the lack of bank accounts you have access to in the new one."

"Well, welcome to Stark Bank." He pulled out a new Stark phone from the desk and popped the SIM card in. "It's a very exclusive bank. For newly accepted members we offer a brand new phone and an unlimited data plan for all world-saving needs." He placed the cover back on and held it out to Stephen.

Stephen took it slowly and looked it over before turning it on. The system began to boot up. "And you're probably tracking this phone."

Tony mock-pouted. "Hey, that's not fair."

"Isn't it?"

A pause. "Okay, but only a little fair. Mostly not fair."

"You're more nosy than a group of small-town church mothers."

"Ouch. But hey, tracking's a good idea for the world-saving types. And in emergencies I can turn on the phone's mic and camera."

Stephen shot him a disbelieving look. "And you expect me to keep this on all the time when you can tap in whenever you want?"

Tony shook his head. "I'd only turn that on in emergencies, like if you haven't gotten back to anyone in a twenty-four hour period." Before Stephen could argue, he added, "Including Wong."

He gave the engineer a long, hard look before sighing softly. "You have absolutely no concept of the idea of privacy, do you?"

Said engineer snorted in turn. "Do you use Google? Wait—Google exists in your universe, right?" He got a slow nod in reply and Tony smirked. "So yeah, you have no room to talk if you use Google. Google doesn't believe in privacy. Privacy is so twenty years ago."

Stephen narrowed his eyes. "Do _you_ use Google?"

"Sure. But I think at least two people on their board of directors have seen me naked at one of those really wild tech parties they hold on the West Coast, so I really have nothing to hide."

"That was a mental image I could've lived without."

"You can probably find a photo on Google if you turn off the filters."

"Can we please change the subject."

Tony smirked again, then nodded his head back to the other desk which held his computer connected to his private server for everything involving Strange. "C'mon. We have some work to do."

The next hour or so was spent identifying all fourteen sensors Stephen had placed, making sure that the GPS was accurately targeting the area, further refining the labeling of their locations on the computer, and Stephen portalling around the world to test each sensor's effectiveness at sensing the portal's unique energy signature at various distances from it. It turned out that the sensors were not nearly as sensitive as Tony had thought, which meant that he was already rearranging code in his head to see what he could do remotely to improve them.

"Some of these places are a bit odd," Tony remarked as they finally got to the end of their initial tests. "This town in Mozambique is really out of the blue."

"Several ley lines go through the town," Stephen said. "All of these locations have strong magical foundations."

"Ugh, that statement just makes me want to hurl," Tony groaned. "Magic shouldn't be a thing."

Stephen smirked. "We've barely scratched the surface."

"I'll figure out all the science behind it eventually," Tony promised, then looked back at the list. "So, New York too. Why Bleecker Street?"

Stephen hesitated, which caused Tony to raise his brow expectantly. "Don't hold out on me here, Doc. New York's part of my turf."

"There are… defense mechanisms, I suppose you could say, protecting the Earth from larger mystical threats," he answered slowly. "In particular, there are three places in the world that have enough mystical energy to continually hold these defenses in place. The Order has built property in these places to safeguard our world. The sensor is near the property in New York City."

Tony snapped his fingers. "I remember you saying something like that when we first met at the lake. You called them Sanctums. London and Hong Kong, too." He had FRIDAY record their conversation and make notes of everything said for his private server. Just in case. But he hadn't reviewed those notes since taking them, and it had escaped his memory until just then. "So you've been operating in New York all this time, right? I haven't seen anything—actually, no. I remember something. There was a weird, weird spike of some sort of thermal energy back in the summer. I went out there to check it out and didn't see a thing."

Tony frowned a bit at the lopsided smile Stephen shot him. "Ah, yeah. That was me arriving in this dimension, actually. I still haven't figured out how it happened—but I did see you, and that's how I knew not everything was right."

There were so many questions that statement brought up. His brain centered on, "How the hell did I not see you? Do you have an invisibility spell I should know about?"

"Not exactly," was Stephen's answer, which was far from reassuring for Tony. "In that specific case, I was near enough to the Sanctum to remain in its protective wards that keep the building from being seen by others."

An invisible building. Great. Magic sucked. Tony exhaled. "Yeah. Okay. Fine." He leaned back in his chair. "We still need to discuss the finer points of what to do if we catch wind of him, but I know Rhodey wants to be in that convo. Probably should have Vision, too. Can you come back Thursday, same time?"

Stephen nodded. "Wong will likely join me for strategizing."

"The more the merrier," Tony said. "Uh, I trust you can see yourself out."

The sorcerer sent him something of a dry look tinged with amusement, then did just that, creating a portal and leaving the basement workshop and research lab in the swirl of a portal.

Tony leaned back in his chair. That went better than expected. Perhaps this whole thing wouldn't be completely fruitless, after all.

* * *

Two days later on Thursday, all five of them were gathered in the workshop to discuss what data had been gathered since the sensors were set and properly calibrated, and from there, refine their plans concerning Strange. As the data was limited after only a couple days' worth of information, the conversation quickly turned to ideas regarding capture of the rogue sorcerer.

This wasn't the first time they had strategized various scenarios. Those talks started in that hidden refuge in Tibet, with him lounging in a rather antique sitting room as he watched Stephen rub the edges of his cloak almost obsessively throughout the entire conversation.

He'd make fun of the sorcerer for it if he didn't understand him so damn well. He might still, anyway.

Today in the workshop, Stephen wasn't touching the cloak but it was again with him as it was the last time. Tony guessed this would be the new norm.

(Again, he wasn't exactly in a place to judge, though he was certain JARVIS was a million times more useful than the magic carpet.)

"I have a better understanding of the sensors now that I've seen them at work," Stephen was saying. "I'm researching the development of a tracking spell to go off the moment there's a reading in the sensor."

"What will that do?" Rhodey asked.

"Basically place the equivalent of a magical tracking signal on his person, or rather, when Strange conjures a gateway," Stephen explained. "What I'm hoping to achieve is an undetectable reactive spell that draws from the same energy the sensors are tracking. When a sensor records a reading, the reactive spell will shoot off to release a tracking spell to embed itself within the magical signature present. In this case, it will be one of Strange's portals. It should be in all his portals thereafter for a few hours, or at least, that's the goal. I'll have to see what is attainable in terms of length of time."

Tony hummed in thought. "If you can get that working, we could track his activity and set a trap."

"Unfortunately nothing meeting those exact specifications currently exists, at least to my knowledge," said Wong.

"Thus the research so I can create a spell to meet these requirements," Stephen said. "Unfortunately, we don't have all of our resources available to us, making research a bit of a lengthier process."

Vision frowned. "Why do you not?" After their first meeting and initial agreement, the android had dropped his human look to appear as his usual maroon self in front of the sorcerers.

Wong and Stephen exchanged glances and seemed to have a brief, silent conversation. Eventually Wong said, "Usually sorcerers gather mainly in four spots around the Earth: Kamar-Taj, our headquarters, so to speak, and three strategic points about the world where our greatest mystical defenses lie. They are known as the Sanctums."

"Ah, yeah, Stephen mentioned the one in New York the other day," Tony said. "Greenwich Village's very own invisible Hogwarts."

Wong didn't crack a bit, though Tony managed to get a bit of an exasperated look from Stephen. Rhodey ignored it, well used to his quips after all these years. "Kamar-Taj has been made inaccessible for safekeeping," Wong continued, "and we cannot enter the Sanctums. Strange has set his own powerful wards upon each of them that has strengthened their defense mechanisms, but in turn he will know if any living being enters." He glanced at Stephen. "He has since added wards to alert not just for use of magic but for any life after your confrontation."

"Great," Stephen muttered.

Vision narrowed his eyes in thought. "These wards do not track movement, but only living beings?"

"And magic," Wong said.

"But I am not a living being," said Vision. "Not truly. I have no heartbeat or internal organ system as sentient, organic beings do. I may be able to slip inside these Sanctums and retrieve what is needed."

Tony was duly impressed by his (partial) creation.

Stephen and Wong exchanged looks. "That's entirely possible from what I observed," said Wong. "Stephen, can you take a look at the wards and determine the details Strange put within them regarding detection? You would know his specific signature best. I saw only instances of life and magic, but we best make certain before Vision makes an attempt."

"Agreed," Stephen answered. "I'll take a look. If there is a loophole for, well, a person like Vision," he gestured to him, "where would we find the books most likely to help with a reactive, long-term tracking spell?"

"London," was Wong's immediate answer. "If Stephen's findings are the same as mine, I'll give you a blueprint of the building and direct you to where you need to go, if you're willing," he added to Vision.

"Of course."

Rhodey nodded. "Great," he said. "So assuming we get this all working, start tracking him, get a trap set up and all—what's next? Are we still trying to take him alive?"

"Yes," Tony and Stephen said as one. Tony blinked in brief surprise.

Stephen shot him his own glance before adding, "I don't kill people, not if I can help it."

"Sometimes you can't," Rhodey pointed out, in his usual practical Rhodey way.

"I avoid it," was Stephen's clipped reply, and ooh, there was a story there. "Regardless, there are ways to imprison rogue sorcerers for the long term. With Tony's cuffs, it will be simpler to capture him."

"You mean the cuffs that you took to the Midwest and never gave back?" Tony retorted.

A slight smile quirked at the edges of Stephen's lips, something clearly amusing the doctor. Tony frowned at him, and Stephen said back, "Are you telling me you haven't been working on another set?"

Ah, well, he got him there. "Yeah, I've got another set with the physical shell ready," Tony admitted, "but some of the hardware and its programming still needs tinkering. Mainly, I need to close any loopholes still open, and I'll need your help with that."

Stephen didn't bother hiding his frown, and Tony frowned right back at him. He had to make sure these cuffs didn't let Strange slip them in any way; what was Stephen's issue with that? It made no sense.

"These sensors look largely to be in the middle of urban populations," Rhodey said, drawing Tony's attention back to his best friend. "If these magical trackers work, though, it sounds like we could wait until Strange was far away from any civilians to make our move."

Wong answered, "That was our thought process as well. We will have to do it as quickly as we can; I don't believe Strange will remain idle as we try to find him."

Vision glanced between Wong and Stephen. "Do you still believe that Strange is only using the arc reactors and the remaining uranium still in his possession for his own experiments to increase his magical ability's longevity?"

"There's nothing in his research suggesting otherwise," Wong answered. "I looked long at every book Stephen photographed of Strange's research to get an idea of his plans and he is interested in creating new spells for limitless magical power. Destruction is not his goal."

"But you said in our first discussion that destruction was a likely outcome due to 'the imbalance of energy in this reality,'" Rhodey pointed out. "Now here's what I don't understand—if it's so risky, how does Strange not know it if he's as smart as he's supposed to be?"

Wong glanced at Stephen, and the doctor cleared his throat before speaking. "On the contrary, we believe he's well aware of the risks. He is just arrogant enough to believe that if any consequences come, he'll have enough power to counter them and bring back 'balance', though how he can even think he has a possible solution to this very likely problem currently escapes me."

Tony exhaled. "Great. So the best solution is to find him before he becomes an endless magical Energizer Bunny and stop him then and there."

"Basically," Stephen said.

The conversation petered off. After they made plans for their next meeting, Wong and Stephen took off, leaving the three remaining Avengers alone in the basement.

Vision took off soon after they left, but Rhodey lingered for a moment longer. His brow was furrowed as he said, "The way they describe it, it's possible that each day Strange learns more to push his limits. We need to find him sooner rather than later to have a chance."

Tony pressed his lips together. "Doing what I can on that front, but it seems we'll be held up by the wizards and their own research too."

"I know," he said, then exhaled. "What I'm trying to say, Tony, is that if we're delayed too long, we may need backup to have a chance."

"Well, maybe Thor will get his sorry ass back to Earth," Tony replied, then turned to his workstation. "I need to get to this, Platypus. Time's a-ticking."

Rhodey gave him a long look, but allowed him the last word and left the workshop.

Rhodey, of course, wasn't talking about Thor when he said backup (though Thor _would_ be great right now). But Tony still had a hard time thinking about them—well, one of them. Mostly the one. And if he had a hard time thinking about him, how could he go about _meeting_ him again? _Speaking_ with him again?

He didn't want to think about it. And so he didn't, and Tony threw himself into his work once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to timeanddate.com's historical weather search for anywhere in the world. Thank you, timeanddate.com.
> 
> There's a lot going on in this fic, as both the first chapter and tags might indicate. To keep from anyone being unpleasantly surprised in future chapters, you can expect:
> 
>   * A lot of bonding and a growing friendship between Stephen and Tony, Rhodey, and Vision, (and some Wong!) with the most emphasis on the first friendship.
>   * An examination of the natural outcome of ratification of the Sokovia Accords (with the details of individual mandates outlined [here in the Wik](https://marvelcinematicuniverse.fandom.com/wiki/Sokovia_Accords)) and its contradictions of both US and other country's civil rights laws, including a look at what would cause Rhodey to turn against them as he did canonically by Infinity War (without it seeming like a weird 180), and an examination of what would cause Tony to turn against the version ratified back in 2016 without any amendments. I took AP US Gov way back when, and those weeks and weeks of studying and memorization are now being put into good use, dammit.
>   * Steve getting a chance to show that, despite the events at the end of CACW, he still gives a fuck beyond the phone and letter. Canon never really gave him this chance and the off screen stuff (whatever it was, if anything) in Endgame wasn't really satisfactory, at least for me. And I like Steve, he's a fantastic character with a lot of depth who deserves more of a chance to show it post-CACW.
>   * Giving Tony the chance to start healing from his hurts from CACW and start on the road to forgiveness so he can really fully heal and move forward with his life in peace (it won't ever be the same, but he can heal, gosh darn it).
>   * No anti-characters. I'm even trying my damnedest to be objective with Thaddeus Ross too, though full disclosure, I dislike most everything he stands for, if the tag wasn't clear enough haha. Tony doesn't like him at all and Rhodey didn't seem too fond of him so there's the character bias there too, and at least it's canonical and not complete author-projection lol.
> 

> 
> If any of that is not to your taste, this fic might not be for you.


	3. A Clear Reminder of How It Began

It was nearing the end of the first week of December, marking a month since Stephen had started working with the three individuals that made up the remaining operating Avengers, though the work truly had only begun in earnest last week. After their first strategy meeting with everyone gathered, Wong had yet to return to the Avengers Compound while Stephen had been over twice again, more or less establishing himself as the main point of contact. He was fine with this; Wong had so many other things on his plate in rebuilding and helping to manage the Order, and all that alongside keeping track of mystical threats meant that he had little time to spare for anything else. Besides, Stephen felt rather responsible for his other self and if anyone was to spend time stopping him, it should be, well, himself.

He went over to the Compound largely to further study the sensors for his own tracking spell research. It was difficult to do without all of the resources from the Sanctums, but he was determined to make all the headway he possibly could. When he first visited on Sunday, much of the time was accompanied by Tony's technobabble regarding the sensors. He didn't particularly mind; some of the insights were helpful. He also provided several portals for the engineer when Tony was tweaking the software during this time and needed to compare data sets. On his second visit on Tuesday, Tony was more muted than in his previous visits; when Stephen saw he was working on the magic-dampening cuffs, he left him mostly alone to his work.

Logically, Stephen knew that the cuffs would have to be brought up to snuff to better contain Strange, and that it was something that should be done sooner rather than later. Logically, he knew that he should be the one to test them. But being _imprisoned_ in such a manner as he had been but six weeks previously still left his throat dry and while he knew that Tony would take them off him the moment he asked, the thought of being so… vulnerable again absolutely galled him.

Hopefully Tony wouldn't be working on them that day. It was now Friday, and Stephen's duties were done for the day. He decided to meet Tony and the others, if they were present, an hour earlier than planned. More time to get more work done was what he figured. He quickly made a portal to the Compound's workshop, as he had done twice before that week.

He had just made it through the portal when the Cloak yanked him to the left, which caused him to barely avoid a blast that flashed before his eyes and burned the air beside him. Stephen immediately had his shield up in response before he could process whatever threat was in the room with him.

When the spots in front of his eyes faded, he saw Tony with a red-armored arm extended out and facing him. Unlike the last time he saw Tony armored, however, there was no cold anger in his expression. Rather Stephen saw a frazzled, unkempt man who looked like he had not slept in the last forty-eight hours, if not longer. Fear and confusion filled Tony's black-ringed eyes and whatever substances were keeping Tony awake were starting to fail, given the small quivers in his arms and legs.

Stephen spared a glance behind him; Tony's blast had put a black scorch mark in the concrete wall of the basement. So he kept the shield up, but otherwise tried to look as non-threatening as possible. "Tony! It's me, Stephen." He paused. "You know, from the alternate reality," he added, just in case. Tony looked _very_ sleep-deprived.

Tony narrowed his eyes, but Stephen couldn't tell what he was thinking, and the fear and confusion were so incredibly stark that it threw off the sorcerer even further. Unfortunately Tony kept his palm up towards him, and so he, in turn, kept up his shield. _What the fuck was wrong with him?_

To his immense relief, Tony wasn't alone in the area. Vision flew through the ceiling to descend beside Tony, and he could hear footsteps on the far stairs that he assumed was Rhodey.

Vision took a quick look at Stephen and his shield, then turned his gaze again to Tony. "It is currently safe, Tony. That is the Stephen Strange from another reality; I can see it in a way that you, perhaps, cannot fully see." He stepped in front of the weaponized arm, putting himself in between the two of them. "You can lower your arm. It is safe right now."

Tony's shaking was increasing, but he didn't lower his arm just yet. It was only when Rhodey said, "Tony," from the stairwell of the basement that he finally lowered his arm, and Stephen dropped his shield.

"You should try to get some sleep, Tony," Rhodey said from the entrance of the room. Tony stared at him silently in turn, eyes wide and expression strangled. It wasn't until Rhodey approached and lightly touched his shoulder that he finally moved, meeting no one's eyes as he walked towards the exit, armour disintegrating into some sort of holding cell on his chest that Stephen had never taken more than a casual glance at. He shut the basement door behind him.

Rhodey exhaled heavily, then looked up at Stephen. "Are you hurt?"

He shook his head. "No, no—I'm fine. The Cloak moved me out of the way, thankfully." He gestured towards the closed door. "What was that? It looks like he hasn't slept for at least two days, if not longer."

Before Rhodey could answer, Vision said, "His wedding with Miss Potts was set for this weekend, before her injury changed those plans."

Stephen pressed his lips together. That explained everything about his appearance. "My apologies."

"It's not your fault," Rhodey said, but the same guilty thoughts that caused Stephen to search for Strange flared in the forefront of his mind, regardless of what platitudes the others said.

Part of this was brought on by his continued failure to discover more about Strange's personal life. Throughout the last month, he had searched on to find any differences between his and his counterpart's pasts, something that explained the contrasting aspects in their personalities. The search had been fruitless. It was incredibly frustrating and only increased the feeling that somewhere, deep down, he was inherently arrogant and any situation might make him snap and turn him into a monster.

It was an absolute nightmare.

He pushed his guilt to the back of his mind as Rhodey continued. "I think he last slept Monday evening." Stephen couldn't help but wince; Monday evening was over three and a half days ago. "He probably forgot about today's meeting and mistook you for your doppelganger. The portal doesn't help."

Stephen's brow furrowed. "I have noticed his hesitation around them, but I thought he would be used to them by now."

Rhodey shrugged. "He almost died in an alien portal, so that might have something to do with his dislike for them. I can't say I like them much myself, no matter how convenient they are," he added dryly.

Stephen made a silent note of that, especially the first statement. "Let Tony know to take all the time he needs, if you think it would make any difference coming from me. There have been no new developments on my end, anyway." Stephen paused, then inquired carefully, "Has there been any change in Ms. Potts' condition?"

Rhodey sighed and shook his head. "Not for some time. The coma is steady and unchanging." He then nodded over towards the computers. "Let's take a look at what activity the sensors have picked up. There was nothing pointing to Strange, but there was something a bit weird on one of the European ones a couple days ago."

"Probably Cluj-Napoca in Romania," Stephen answered as he followed him. Vision trailed after them, hovering through the air rather than choosing to walk. "It's the unofficial capital of Transylvania for a reason."

"Anything we need to be worried about?"

"All taken care of." He had cut his arm rather badly in a skirmish with what he called "interdimensional vampires", but that was almost healed up now. Healing magic was very convenient in how it helped speed up natural processes. A part of him idly wondered at some point if it could be used for things that the rest of humanity had yet to get a good grasp on, such as late-stage cancer, but it was not yet something he had fully explored. Maybe one day, when all this was over.

That was one way to be optimistic, he supposed.

"Good," Rhodey replied, pulling Stephen out of his thoughts. They were at the monitors which already had up Tony's program that he had just—created in the span of weeks, throughout their planning phases and as he got some of the physical materials for the sensors shipped to him. Stephen could not help but be a bit impressed. "Tony taught me how to read the charts, of course, and while I don't see anything, I wanted you to take a look at them to make sure I didn't miss anything within the last day."

Stephen leaned forward and squinted as he looked through them. He lifted a shaking hand to swipe the touchscreen further down. After a minute, he shook his head. "I don't see anything over the last day, or the day before—other than the one in Romania, of course. Everything else is quiet."

He straightened as Rhodey replied, "He can't remain in hiding forever. Even if we need more sensors, we'll get him eventually."

"It's probably better if we get him once I complete a tracking spell," Stephen replied. "Otherwise I'll need to find him at the sensor and somehow manage to set a tracking spell upon him without him noticing me." He really hoped it didn't come to that; there was no guarantee he wouldn't be detected, despite the studying done since Sokovia to attempt to learn just that.

Rhodey slightly smiled. "Ah yeah, that reminds me." He gestured to Vision and said, "Vision has an update for you, which I think you'll be very happy to hear."

Stephen raised his eyebrows as he looked at the android. "Don't tell me you've already gone to the London Sanctum."

"I have," Vision answered, "and I was quite successful." He gestured behind Stephen, and the sorcerer turned to see a very innocuous-seeming cardboard box sitting upon the table. He had completely missed it in the aftermath of Tony's—breakdown was the word, he supposed. "They are all in there, along with the original blueprints you kindly provided."

"I was just Wong's messenger. He had all the info," he replied, though his gaze was on the box rather than Vision. He stepped over and opened it up to see it filled to the brim with tomes large and small.

Vision followed him and continued speaking. "I will be the first to admit that if Wong had not provided the titles of the books you needed as well, I do not know if I would have found the correct books on my own. I may know every language known to man, but these titles little correspond with the subjects within." His brow furrowed. "A curious finding. I have more often found that nonfiction titles are more easily labeled than fiction."

"Well, sorcerers do like to be vague sometimes," Stephen mumbled as he shifted the books around. "This is fantastic. You're certain you weren't detected?"

"It seems incredibly unlikely," Vision replied. "From your accounts of Strange's personality, I am certain he would have confronted me upon detecting me in a place he believes is his for safekeeping. I also took the time to rearrange the books in the Sanctum's library so that it was not so obvious that a section of it was half-empty."

"Great," he answered distractedly as he thumbed through one of the books. "Sorry to keep this meeting so short, but I should get started with these." The faster he got through his research, the better. He put the lid back on the box. "Was there anything else we needed to discuss today?"

From where he stood at the monitors, Rhodey shook his head. "We're good here. One of us will text you if something comes up earlier; otherwise, we'll see you next week."

At a silent command, the Cloak detached itself from him and wound itself tightly around the cardboard box before lifting it with a lot more ease than Stephen would have ever managed. The sorcerer noted the bemused look on Rhodey's face and offered him a slight smirk in return. But before he created a portal to leave, he caught the black scar on the back wall, calling back the incident earlier to the forefront of his mind and sobering him once more.

Stephen cleared his throat. "Is, uh." He paused to gather the right words. "Should I text Tony later and let him know I didn't mean to startle him?"

"God, no," Rhodey immediately rebutted. "The absolute last thing Tony will want is to talk about what happened." Stephen's brow furrowed in concern, and the colonel continued, "I'm not working with anything outside this for the next four days. I'll keep an eye on him. The best thing you could do for him is pretend it didn't happen; he'd appreciate that the most."

"Your concern, however, is noted and appreciated by us," Vision added unexpectedly.

Stephen blinked at the android, only to get a passive, completely unreadable expression in return. "Right," he said after a moment. "See you next week, then." With that, he created a portal and left the Compound to start his research project.

* * *

It was during the second full week of December that things started happening. The first thing that happened, though, was not exactly something that Stephen was looking out for.

Stephen portalled into Wong's apartment after finishing with his studies and experiments for the day. Both of them had agreed that it was better that all this research be kept elsewhere in case Wong's apartment was compromised, so he had a hidden, designated location for the task. To be doubly-safe, he had Wong pick the spot so that it was completely improbable that his doppelganger would stumble upon it. Wong had chosen a small, off-the-grid set of caves in the deserts of Australia. It was the middle of Australia's summer, so Stephen had to have a small portal continually open in the middle of the northern Pacific Ocean for a constant flow of cold air so he didn't suffer a heat stroke in said caves.

Usually when he came in, Wong was reading, writing, or preparing some sort of meal. If the circumstances had been different, such an arrangement might even be called pleasant.

(Stephen tried to help once by making the meal for them first. Wong forbade him from ever desecrating his stove top with the poor excuse he called food ever again. That ended his attempts to do anything regarding food without Wong's permission.)

Today, though, he saw that Wong had on the TV to one of this reality's opinion news shows, one he didn't recognize—though whether that was due to differences between realities or his own self being completely out of touch with all television programming the last two years, Stephen couldn't say. His brow furrowed at the change of routine and he looked from the TV to Wong.

"Tony may not be available for your meeting," Wong said in greeting. "The former members of the Avengers made the news today." Stephen turned back to the screen to watch. The show currently was mid-debate between two women while the male host watched in practiced patience.

"—even stepping on the embassy's soil was an aggressive act. They are wanted fugitives and their actions are going to have major repercussions across the Middle East."

"The UAE would never condone terrorist activities within foreign embassies in their country. That these so-called Ex-Avengers acted proactively rather than wait for them to carry out their plan helped save dozens of lives today."

"We have no proof of that. All we have is the word—from fugitives of the United States—that the UAE delegation at the embassy was infiltrated. That's not enough evidence to assault them on embassy soil! Furthermore, what precarious relationships we have with the gulf coast states are only rocked by this vigilantism."

"Firstly, from what information we know, they stopped what was going to be a deadly attack and hostage situation. Secondly, the only reason these men and women are fugitives in the first place is the existence of the draconian rules set in the Sokovia Accords that are, even now, being contested in courts all across the United States—"

"I think I got it. Do I need to listen to this any longer?" Stephen asked wryly.

Wong turned off the TV. "I thought they might paint a clear picture of the issue for you," he answered, deadpan as usual. Stephen couldn't tell if he was making a joke or being completely serious. "I imagine Stark is embroiled in all this."

Stephen's brow furrowed. "Not necessarily. If I remember right, one of them made a comment while I was there about less work from the government over the last year, or something. The feds may be doing all in their power to keep the state-sanctioned Avengers away from…" he waved his hand towards the TV, "whatever you want to call the others. The media has plenty of creative names."

"That they do," Wong answered as Stephen pulled his phone from his pocket.

"Still, I'll text him and check." Typing messages was always a slow going process, but if he was not in a hurry he kept it up as part of his regular PT with his hands. He slowly managed to write, _Saw the news. Are we still meeting today?_ then sent it. As Rhodey had suggested, he had remained silent throughout the weekend and did not plan to mention the incident that happened last time unless Tony brought it up first.

He got a reply not a minute later. _Yeah. I'm not involved with the stuff on the news._ He sounded back to normal, at least.

Stephen was still considering a reply when a follow-up message came. _Come on over now if you want._

"Huh," he muttered. He caught Wong's gaze in the corner of his eye and clarified, "He's not involved, as I suspected. On the contrary, he said he's free now."

Wong made a noise of acknowledgment. "Don't see what's keeping you here, then."

"Dinner?" Stephen said dryly. He was rather hungry.

"I'm sure there's some food at the Compound."

Stephen rolled his eyes. "You're just trying to kick me out so you can watch more of that trashy reality TV without my commentary, huh?" Wong just gave him a stoic look in reply.

He smirked and looked back at the phone. "Fine, fine." Slowly he typed out, _Haven't eaten yet. Got food?_ and sent it.

Tony's reply came in thirty seconds. _You can portal anywhere, yeah? Feel free to go wherever you want and pick something up for yourself before you come here. And for me too, actually. I'll eat anything._

Stephen raised his brow at the reply. "I thought we had gone over this," he grumbled to himself. He refused to ask Wong for money, no matter if it came from his personal account or the funds the Order had accumulated over the centuries. It was a matter of principle, and he was already relying too much on the charity of his colleague—his _friend_. And ever since this whole thing with hunting down Strange started, Stephen had no time to earn any additional funds for himself.

Irritation sprang up; he was being considerate of Tony's situation, so why couldn't the man show him a little bit of the same? He started to type something scathing back when another message from Tony appeared. _Wait, you've explored all the features of the new phone, right?_

What? What did the phone have to do with this? Stephen blinked and deleted the start of his retort to instead ask, _What does the phone have to do with this?_

The answer came quickly. _Go to the second page of apps. Click the icon for StarkPay. Should be self-explanatory from there._

Stephen stared at the message, then slowly navigated to the app and opened it. Tony was right; it was very easy to see that a credit card was saved to the phone.

"Damn it," he muttered, his irritation flaring up once more.

Wong straightened. "What is it?"

"Tony!" he replied, tossing the phone on the couch beside Wong. "He preloaded the phone he gave me with a credit card, of all things! I already told him I don't want his charity. The phone was borderline as it was."

Wong picked up the phone and looked through it for a moment. Stephen, in turn, paced around in a couple circles to blow off some of the steam of his irritation.

"Have you considered, Stephen," Wong started when the doctor stopped pacing, "that Tony is not trying to insult you."

"I'm not insulted," he immediately retorted.

"Yes, you are," Wong shot back. "This is all about your pride. You're immediately assuming he's thinking you're incapable of supporting yourself and that the only way you'll survive is through his money. Your pride is blinding you from seeing this for what it is."

Stephen folded his arms. "And just what is it, Wong?"

"A sign of trust." Stephen stared at him with a raised brow as Wong continued, "Stark donates plenty of his fortune to various charities, but he doesn't strike me as the type of man to give a credit card to just anyone. This is his way of telling you that he trusts you won't abuse his wealth, no matter how little frivolous spending may affect him financially."

Stephen's stance relaxed a bit by the end of Wong's explanation, and then he exhaled. "Okay, fine, you make a valid argument, I suppose. It doesn't mean I have to like it, though."

Wong held the phone out to Stephen in reply. He grabbed it and, after a moment of thought, typed out, _Burgers okay?_

The reply was, _Cheeseburgers are amazing._

* * *

Stephen decided to go to California to a burger chain famous in the state. From what he remembered of his online biography, Tony lived for quite a while in Los Angeles.

He was still in his street clothes via a glamour spell when he portalled into the Compound, two bags of In-n-Out food in one hand and a cardboard drink holder that even he could carry in the other. The Cloak, which had lurked behind the restaurant as he got his food, followed him dutifully.

"Oh, you're a man of good taste," Tony said in greeting. "I can't remember the last time I had In-n-Out." Tony looked worlds better than he did four days ago, and a tension that Stephen didn't realize sat in his shoulders fell away.

"Cheeseburger, as requested. Hope you like grilled onions. Fries and Coke, too."

"Grilled onions are great. Are the fries Animal Style?"

Stephen paused as he set the food down. "Animal Style?"

Tony produced two cheap plates (that he must have brought out beforehand from somewhere). "Man, you're missing out if you haven't tried In-n-Out's fries Animal Style. It's not written on the menu, but every joint knows what it is. Helps the fries compete with the burger—though you can get the burger Animal Style, too."

Stephen grabbed the plate as the engineer spoke and dished himself out his burger and order of fries. "I'll keep that in mind," he said, not quite able to fully stem his amusement.

"Trust me, you won't be laughing when you try them," Tony retorted. "Big difference."

"I'll take your word for it."

The Cloak, satisfied that its chosen was relaxed, started to float around the room in a way that reminded Stephen of the original cloak from his own dimension. A pang of heartache still rang through him when he thought of the first, but the one from this dimension acted so similarly that he almost forgot that it was not technically the same cloak.

Almost.

Tony finished dumping fries on his plate, then looked in the bag and frowned. "They never include enough napkins in their to-go orders, though."

"Have any down here?" Stephen asked as he looked around, since he was still standing.

"Oh man, I guess I never gave you the tour of the workshop-slash-lab, did I? Though you already got a bit of a tour when you ghosted your way through here the first time, technically." Tony stood up. "Let me show you real quick."

Stephen followed Tony away from the workshop part of the basement, through the more lab-type area, and around a corner near supply cabinets and the washing station only to find there was a small kitchenette area hidden there. "Needed a coffee pot and snacks down here so I didn't have to continue running upstairs. Help yourself to whatever when you're here."

He grabbed a couple napkins for himself and began following Tony back to their usual workstation, but an unexpected item tucked away on the corner shelf in the kitchen caught his eye.

It was a photograph. In the photo was Tony, wearing his signature sunglasses (though he didn't seem to wear them in the Compound's basement). Beside him was a teenager, short, brown-haired, and with an expression Stephen could only describe as 'dorky'. They were posing in front of a Stark Industries sign, holding some sort of certificate—upside down, too—and putting bunny ears behind each other's heads.

Stephen was not entirely sure what to make of it.

He paused a moment too long, however; before he could pretend he didn't see anything, Tony was back with him and caught him looking at the picture. Well, he might as well satisfy his curiosity at this point.

"Who's the kid?"

"No one in particular," Tony answered too quickly, causing Stephen to raise his eyebrows.

He couldn't quite help himself with his dry retort. "Ah, yes. I also take photos with random teenagers and place them in my kitchen."

Tony rolled his eyes and started back towards their workstation again, and Stephen followed in due order. He figured that was the end of the conversation when the other didn't immediately reply, so he was surprised to hear Tony speak as they sat down.

"Intern for SI. Smart kid. He'll be going places."

He prodded a little further, partially because he was genuinely curious, and partially because he wanted to see what he could learn about (and how far he could push into) this unknown part of Tony's life before he clammed up. "You're a bit high up the food chain to know the interns well."

Tony shrugged as he bit into his cheeseburger. "I guess this kid's an exception."

"What makes him so special?"

"Why do you care?"

Stephen paused at the sharp retort to take a couple meaningful bites from his hamburger. "From what I've gotten to know of you these last two months, you don't have a large circle. Your intern must be something else to earn a photo in your workshop."

Tony took a long sip of his soda. "He's a good kid," was his eventual reply. "The world could use more like him."

There was a finality in the last statement, so Stephen dropped the conversation. Instead, he hummed in acknowledgment before turning properly to his food before it got too cold to eat.

He could always ask again later. But for now, there was still work to be done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The intro to this chapter changed dramatically due to nemmy's wonderful input, and trust me, it's a hundred times better. I'll post the original on tumblr in the coming days.
> 
> You can take the headcanon that Wong is a fan of trashy reality TV shows from my cold dead hands. Or use it yourself.
> 
> In-n-Out burgers are one of the best fast food burgers in existence. If you're ever in California with no restricting diet, it's a necessity for your time here. Five Guys can stuff it. Yeah, I said it.


	4. The Shadow Reckoning

Another two days passed before Stephen again met up with Tony. He was planning on touching base with him either that day or the next, depending on how far he got with his own research. It was not necessarily any slower than his previous projects into various aspects of the Mystic Arts had been, but the very real element of working against the clock did set an urgency upon it that his other research endeavours had not included.

Still, he wanted to update Tony on his efforts fairly regularly, even if those efforts thus far brought little in progress, especially compared to how quickly Tony was able to alter the sensors to pick up traces of a specific magical energy. No matter that Tony had been studying magical energy and how to track it for months; Stephen had been studying for _years_ at this point. Well, two and a half years, more or less. Regardless, it had been a week since Vision had granted him all the research Wong had suggested, and he felt no closer to figuring out how to alter the spell to fit his needs.

It was incredibly frustrating.

He was alone with only this research in his temporary hideout in the sweltering hot Australian cave system, so he allowed himself to hold his head and groan in frustration. As he sighed and lifted his head to get back to it, the phone rang. Stephen frowned and carefully pulled it out of his pocket to look at the caller ID.

Tony was calling him. A shot of adrenaline ran through him at the implications. He answered the call. "Tony?"

_"Got portal activity on one of the sensors, the one in Peru. Thirty seconds ago."_

They already had a plan in place in case activity was picked up by the sensors before the tracking spell was complete, but Stephen hadn't actually expected that it would be used; Strange had proven too elusive. At the moment, though, he was quite glad they had that contingency plan, even if there was a very real threat of being caught in the process. "On my way," he said, then hung up.

He closed the small portal that sat above the Pacific Ocean that served as his air conditioning, then portalled to a secluded spot about a mile away from the sensor placed in Peru. He placed a minor spell of concealment upon himself that would discourage people from looking directly at him for a couple minutes. It was a much weaker version of what was upon the Sanctums. "Be right back," he told the Cloak, then pushed his astral body up.

He raced through the air as time crawled to a near standstill, towards the sensor so he could scout the surrounding area. Strange had to be nearby, and once he found him, he could see about potentially placing a tracking spell upon his person. It was riskier than he would have liked (some would say "insane" and "suicidal"), but he had to try something while Strange was here.

 _If you had been faster in figuring out how to modify the existing spells, the risk wouldn't be necessary_ , a small voice taunted in the back of his mind. He pushed it away definitively―duty first. Self deprecation could wait.

He was at the sensor now. Strange couldn't be far. He kept in the faster, imperceptible astral realm as he scouted the surrounding block, then another block over. _Wait, was that—ohh for the love of—_

Stephen brought himself back to the normal passage of time as he watched one of the many apprentices of Kamar-Taj that he was familiar with in his own world, if not this one, stroll down the street. On his hand there was a sling ring.

"Damn it," he muttered to himself, before speeding through time once more to get back to his body. In under a minute he was dialing Tony's number.

 _"You find him?"_ was Tony's greeting.

"False alarm," Stephen said.

" _What? What do you mean, false alarm? Did it pick up some other sort of energy signature? Are you sure that—_ "

"Yeah, I'm sure," he interrupted. "It picked up portal energy, but it was one of our Order. One of the apprentices."

A brief pause. " _Well, I guess now we know it works with not only your portals._ "

Stephen grimaced, regardless. "Sorry about that. I'll let Wong know what happened." One of the locals gave him a weird look in passing; it seemed the concealment spell had worn off.

" _Sure. Since we're already talking, why don't you come over for that status update you promised a couple days ago. If you're not, you know, too busy making balloon animals or something._ "

"Don't quit your day job, because you're a terrible comedian," Stephen snarked back. "As it is, I don't have much," he confessed, but ducked deeper into the alley he currently hid in. "But sure, I'll come over. One moment." He hung up and waited for no one to be passing by before quickly portalling into the Compound's basement.

Tony sat at his computer, one normal monitor displaying the portal data Stephen was well familiar with, and a holographic screen to his other side that he was currently playing with. He kept his gaze to the holographic screen as he said, "So Merlin, any idea of how we weed out false alarms? From what I'm seeing, this other wizard's portal is identical to yours and Wong's."

Stephen hesitated a moment. The pause caused Tony to turn around, eyebrows raised in expectancy. At that, he admitted, "I believe there is some fairly complex magic that can identify a marker unique to a specific spellcaster."

"So magical fingerprints."

"Not exactly, but the individuality of both to a single person is a commonality." He shook his head. "But the magic is highly complex and, in terms of efficiency, less useful than a tracking spell would be."

Tony turned back around to the screens. "Not if it's tracking the wrong person," he said pointedly.

He pursed his lips together. "As I said, I'll let Wong know what happened. He'll inform the Masters of the fourteen locations that everyone should avoid directly portalling to until he says otherwise." With the thought still in his mind, Stephen pulled out his phone again and started a text explaining the situation as succinctly as possible.

"Yeah, that'd be nice," Tony answered, typing something in the computer. "I've got FRIDAY monitoring the sensors 24/7, and she'll alert me, or Rhodey if she can't get to me for some reason, if any of them go off. If that happens in the middle of the night, I'd rather it not be for some false alarm. Rhodey can be a bit tetchy about my sleep schedule and as funny as it'd be to see him ream you out, you should probably stick to his good side."

Stephen grunted in acknowledgement, but otherwise didn't reply; he was busy with his text, and it really was not worth the effort. And part of him was still a bit irritated about the false alarm, leaving the idea of banter less than appealing at this time.

A silence followed for the next twenty or so seconds, before Tony said out of the blue, "Have you tried the voice-to-text feature?"

Stephen paused in his typing. "Aren't those usually terrible?"

Tony looked mock-offended. "You have the latest and greatest version of the Stark Phone, Stephen. I put _quality_ in all my products."

"You designed everything on the phone, then?" he asked, snark slipping into the question without his permission. "Steve Jobs would be impressed."

Tony was unphased. "I don't think Steve Jobs designed every aspect of his phones, either," he quipped back. "But you bet I checked it out before allowing my name to go on it. Made some suggestions for improvement. Did it for this model, do it for all models."

That actually brought up something that Stephen had been wondering for a while. "What's been your role at Stark Industries since stepping down as CEO?"

"I'm on the Board of Directors, and as a major shareholder I definitely have sway in where the company goes. We meet quarterly, though—" He cut himself off, exhaled, then continued, "this year we needed two extra meetings. As you can imagine." He paused for a couple seconds. "Well, are you gonna try it or not?"

Stephen pressed his lips together and purposefully held his tongue. Tony was probably trying to be thoughtful, like one did with people who were _disabled_ like he was. He allowed himself a sharp nod, though in the corner of his eye he could see Tony's stiffening posture. That was fine with Stephen; he didn't have to be the only one uncomfortable here. He decided to finish the sentence of his current text and send it off, which was just another couple of words. He tried to keep his voice neutral as he said, "I'll send you a text," but by Tony's stillness, it didn't seem he completely succeeded.

He looked up how to turn on the voice-to-text feature as Tony said, his own, usually animated voice much more flat, "You need to speak out any punctuation. Comma, period, question mark, et cetera. It's very accurate for American accents."

Stephen found the directions easy enough. He set up a text to Tony, then pushed the voice-to-text button. The phone beeped. "Hello—comma—Tony." He paused. "Period. I feel really stupid talking like this. Period." He looked down at the phone. It transcribed it perfectly. "Well, it works."

"See? Get over the 'feeling stupid' part, and you can text as much as you want with voice." There was just the softest bite of acid in Tony's reply. "Figured that might come in handy."

It _was_ thoughtful of Tony if Stephen pushed away his feelings about his hands in general. Useful. But the reminder of them, and the fact that others could _see_ their uselessness, was—unwelcome. Still, he slowly exhaled and forced his shoulders to relax. "Thank you." Even he could hear how stiff he sounded. He looked down as he paused in thought, staring at the scarred fingers that glared under the bright workshop lights. Perhaps it was best if he was the one to address the elephant in the room. Without thinking more on it, he added as quickly as he could say while still sounding clinical, "That will help with longer messages, but I should still text sometimes. It's good physiotherapy for my hands."

And he was mid-thought with Wong in his current message thread and so went back to texting the normal (slow, achy) way for the rest of his message.

"Suit yourself," Tony said, though the acid, at least, was gone. "When you're done with your physiotherapy, I've got something I want to show you."

"Yeah?" This text would only take a couple more minutes at most, anyway.

"Yeah. I've been reworking the original design of the sensors for the next batch. I can't get more Californium until early in the new year, but I think I may be able to improve their range with a few tweaks when I do. If Strange is still AWOL in January, I think I'll have you swap the originals for these new ones."

January. That thought made Stephen grimace for how likely the timeline sounded, especially since Strange was now aware that, since Tony Stark was able to track him down in Sokovia, he would need to be even more careful. He finished his text to Wong and slipped the phone back in his pocket, then joined the engineer at his desk. "Let's see what you have."

* * *

Tony lost track of time in discussing his invention and work, like he always did. Stephen, for very much not being an engineer, still made an engaging listener and asked the right questions (even if he was being a bit of an ass today). He made mental notes for some of the things he said to consider later, especially when it came to tracking down multiple types of magic if they didn't have any leads on Strange come January. Stephen seemed fine with him tracking more than just portals, which only opened up the possibilities of what he could do with the second batch of sensors.

Still, it would be nice if that second batch wasn't needed.

The conversation came to a halt at the sudden fizzing sound of a portal. Stephen wasn't making it. They both stood up at the same time as the portal widened to full-size. He tensed, fingers hovering on the nanosuit housing container.

His stance relaxed when he saw Wong step through, but Stephen only tensed further. "What is it?" the sorcerer asked.

"Dimensional breach. A large one."

Stephen's brow furrowed. "Any idea which dimension?"

"We're suspecting Chaos."

"Fuck."

Tony stared at Stephen. He couldn't remember if he had ever heard him drop the F-bomb before, which only made this more concerning. "What exactly is this? Is something going to come through this breach?"

"Nothing has yet," Wong said, "but we need to close it before something has a chance to, and that takes time and several sorcerers."

"The breaching dimension isn't a pleasant one," Stephen offered as further explanation, which was a completely useless excuse for one. "Excuse me, Tony; I need to see to this. I'll contact you later."

Tony jumped in between Stephen and Wong, facing the former. "Oh no no no. We're partners now, remember? And from what you've told me, you wizards—"

"Sorcerers."

"—sorcerers need all the backup you can get. Just let Rhodey and Vision get down here and we'll be on our way. You find them, FRI?"

"Yes boss," the AI answered. "They've been informed of the situation and are on their way."

Stephen frowned at the ceiling, then turned that frown to Tony. "We're partners in finding Strange. This is beyond your purview."

A part of Tony's mind noted that, unexpectedly, Wong wasn't adding to the argument. He kept his main focus on Stephen though, answering, "Anything in the world-saving category is actually part of my job." He saw Stephen about to argue, but beat him to the punch. "Even if you're right, we—me, Rhodey, Vision—need to get as used to different sorts of magic as soon as we can before we confront Strange. This here will give us a chance to see how you and the other wiz—sorcerers fight if any creepy crawlies come through, which will give us a better idea of what we might expect in the future. Plus, you'll have three more fighters to help contain them."

Stephen looked at Wong, so Tony also looked at Wong. He didn't see any sort of hint as to what he was thinking upon his face, but Stephen didn't seem to have that problem as he said, "Fine. How long until the other two get here?"

FRIDAY answered, "Colonel Rhodes will be here in less than five minutes; Vision is entering the building now."

And as she spoke, Vision phased through the basement walls to meet them. Tony noticed Wong's expression change a bit at his entrance, but he couldn't read what he was thinking for the life of him.

"FRIDAY informed me that there is a situation," Vision said in greeting.

"Yeah," replied Tony. "Dimensional breach. Possible alien monsters to deal with while the magic guys close it. You up for it?"

"Of course. I would be honored to. And I admit I am very curious to see your powers in action," the android told Stephen and Wong.

Speaking of powers. Tony double-tapped the housing container to activate his suit.

He caught Stephen eyeing the nanites as they formed the suit, but the sorcerer quickly turned back to Wong. "Can we afford to spare five more minutes? A large breach that developed so quickly—"

Stephen broke himself off as Wong lifted his hand. "A few more minutes can be spared. It's a natural breach; its growth was not accelerated by other forces."

Tony saw Stephen relax a little at that news. "Not as bad as it could be, then," he muttered, then frowned. "How large is it?"

"Just under four meters tall."

"So what, twelve feet? Are you kidding?" Stephen frowned. "A breach a quarter of that size should have been detected a week ago."

Wong, again, shook his head once. "That's not what happened. The area was scanned two days ago. Nothing was there then."

Stephen's brow furrowed. "That's impossible… if the Sanctums were fully operational." The two sorcerers exchanged a knowing glance.

Tony caught the look out of the corner of his eye as he went through a quick systems check with all of his suit's data streaming on one of his holographic screens. The vagueness of Stephen's statement just annoyed him. "And that means _what_ , exactly?"

"It means—" Stephen paused, "—that he's slipping."

Was that pause for _dramatic effect?_ Tony wouldn't exactly put it past him. "Who's slipping? Strange?"

"Strange, as you know, currently has a hold on the three Sanctums," Wong, godsend that he was, began to explain. "The Sanctums individually can be maintained by one person, though usually two or three people will see to the full maintenance of one, for both precautionary measures and due to the amount of work upkeeping a Sanctum's defense mechanisms can be. These Sanctums bolster Earth's defenses from interdimensional trouble, such as breaches. Breaches are natural occurrences, but three properly-running Sanctums can help close all but the most stubborn ones without our direct intervention. Those they cannot they alert us about, long before breaches are this size."

"Usually one this size means that a force from another dimension is actively fighting our defenses," Stephen added, finally dropping more details. "That this is a naturally occurring rift that grew this large in only two days means that the Sanctums are not being properly maintained."

"Strange was able to handle the upkeep of one Sanctum on his own," Wong mused. "And he held on well enough for over a year with all three for the most important aspects. But it seems the stress is finally getting to him." Wong glanced at Stephen. "Your appearance may be the cause of that."

"Maybe," Stephen murmured as Rhodey reached the basement, the War Machine suit on.

"Wizard stuff. Dimensional breach. Mean magical aliens might be present," Tony said in explanation to Rhodey.

Rhodey sighed. "Yeah, sure. Sounds great. Let's go."

Wong silently put his hand forward and began to make a portal. Stephen turned to the three of them. "Stay away from the breach as best as you can. Whatever you do, absolutely do not fly through it; the gravitational force in several areas of the Chaos Dimension will crush your body."

"Noted," Tony said, and Wong's portal was ready. The two wizards ran through and, before he could really think about it, he was flying through.

The moment of post-portal panic that came the last time he went through portals over a month ago was chased away by the sheer craziness before his eyes. "Breach" was a nice word for the gigantic, jagged tear that cut through the air in one of the greenest forests he'd ever seen in his life. The rip started about seven feet off the ground and continued upward at about a thirty degree angle from the ground in a relatively straight line. While it was long, it wasn't particularly wide, being perhaps two to three feet at its widest. The breach was outlined in a bright white light that seemed fairly contained. All he could see beyond it was a pitch blackness that could rival the blackest black of space. It was even blacker than Anish Kapoor's exclusively owned black paint, which he figured would piss off Anish Kapoor.

He must have made a sound, because Rhodey asked him, "What?"

"Ah, nothing. Just thinking about the black paint war."

Rhodey didn't get a chance to follow up on that because the sorcerers started talking shop.

"We have novices holding up the containment wall," Wong was saying to Stephen. "Masters Wu and Varadi have been working to close the breach shut the last ten, fifteen minutes."

Stephen frowned. "It still looks like it's about twelve feet."

"It's slow-going," an Asian woman, about Tony's age, spoke up. She was doing something fancy with her hands that caused several streaks of orange light in various shapes to form. "The breach may be natural, but at this size, it's fighting against us."

"We'll see if we can be of any help, Master Wu," said Wong.

"I'll take a look from above," Stephen said, and suddenly he was flying. Tony blinked; how the fact that the cloak let him fly had slipped his mind sometime within the last month stumped him. He hadn't seen it do so before now and, throughout the last two weeks, the red fabric became part of the background, just a part of Stephen's weird wardrobe. If he hadn't seen it for himself in that museum-house in Tibet, he may not have even thought it sentient.

Regardless, now Stephen _was_ flying and that was a good idea. Tony let the helmet form over his head as he flew up to join him, and to get some readings from FRI.

As he flew around it, he noticed something very quickly: while the angle of the breach to the ground remained constant, no matter what direction he was looking at it as he rounded it, the width of the tearing remained the same. It was as if he was always facing it directly, no matter what angle he saw it at while going around it.

"FRI, give me all you got on it," he muttered, before saying over the speaker, "Uh, Stephen, is it supposed to do that?"

"Do what?"

"Follow me with the opening no matter what side I'm viewing it from?"

"Part of the nature of the Chaos Dimension. It's known as 'many angled' for that reason. Its physics don't exactly translate well to our dimension."

"Yeah, I can see that."

As Stephen began making several orange glowing shapes of his own, FRIDAY gave him the rundown.

"The white light surrounding the breach is made up of gamma rays, suggesting that whatever force is causing this tear is incredibly powerful. I believe we are only seeing a small part of the measurable radiation, though where the origin point of the reaction might be cannot be detected."

"What about what's beyond the breach?"

"Unknown. My sensors cannot measure anything within it."

Tony exhaled and considered the weirdly-angled black rent in the air. "Right, well, doesn't look like anything's coming out of it right now. Just keep an eye out for any changes, FRI."

"Sure thing, boss."

The next few minutes were spent circling the rift and keeping an eye out for anything suspicious while he stole glances at the sorcerers and their work. Tony couldn't make heads or tails of the significance with their gestures and the signs and symbols they were aiming at the breach, but he could see some small changes in its size, slowly growing shorter as it seemed to fight against them. Both Wong and Stephen were helping out the other two sorcerers to close it, and at the rate their combined effort was going, Tony figured it wouldn't take more than ten minutes before it was shut.

Another two minutes passed; through the effort of four sorcerers, the rift had shrunk down to about nine feet tall in that time. But then FRIDAY suddenly said urgently, "Boss, there's a new energy source emitting from the breach."

"Something's changed in the breach," Tony communicated to Rhodey and Vision over their comms. By the sorcerers' stiffened postures, they already seemed to be aware of it. "Any idea what it is, FRI?"

"There is some similarity between the energy readings both Vision and Wanda Maximoff emit with their powers, but it's different enough to quantify it as an unknown—Boss, it's rapidly increasing!"

"Possible incoming!" he shouted at the others. Then he froze in silent horror as it came into sight.

Two vaguely tentacle-like arms emerged from the inky blackness. They were no readily quantifiable color: a strange dark green rust that bled into a bruised purple which, in turn, melted into the pitch black of the void beyond, but they were shifting with every movement into hues of muddied brown, causing something of a flash effect every microsecond and making it difficult to look at. It impossibly grabbed at the edges of the breach with both arms and ripped it wide open to allow several more tentacle arms through—and then it showed its face. The core of the being was perhaps seven feet in height and mostly round, with its appendages all connected to its center. A pitch black abyss sat in the middle of its mass, and its mouth, for lack of better term, was surrounded by several eyes that shone like incandescent light bulbs, making it impossible to see if there were any pupils.

And the absolute worst thing about it was that it shared the dimensional properties of the breach, meaning that no matter what angle Tony looked at it, he was constantly hovering right in front of it, making getting on top of it or to its side seemingly impossible.

The best way Tony could describe it, if someone asked him to, was that it looked like some form of a baby Cthulhu.

"Christ," he heard Rhodey mutter over the intercom. "Are you having a hard time getting to its sides, guys?"

"Yep," Tony answered. "Looks like it's always facing you just like the breach. It's like an Escher drawing on steroids." He made his way over to Stephen, who already had his shields up.

"A drawing that can probably kill us," Rhodey said in turn.

Stephen didn't bother to acknowledge Tony's arrival before he began talking. "As you've probably seen, it's impossible to view it from the side. Many-angled and all. Avoid getting hit by its beam that comes from its mouth as much as possible. Push back at it with whatever weaponry you have to get it to retreat while we repair the rift. Weak spots are the eyes."

"Copy. You get that Rhodey, Vision?"

"Copy."

"I did."

And there was no further time for discussion, because Baby Cthulhu started to light up as something powerful and bright began to expand within the gaping hole of its mouth. Since no one could get to its side, everyone who could fly hovered up while the rest flattened themselves on the ground as the first beam shot from its mouth. Everyone Tony saw was able to dodge it and the beam hit the surroundings behind every single individual instead, causing fires to erupt within the foliage at several places around them.

To Tony, it was like fighting a monster with a dozen different faces all pointed at a specific person. He could see how this could get bad fast and, the moment after the beam shot off, he straightened and started aiming for the creature's eyes. In the corner of his sight he saw Rhodey and a couple of the sorcerers doing the same thing.

Baby Cthulhu let out a sound that resembled something between a whale and the groaning of a building just before it was about to collapse, only it was an earthier, almost primordial sound. It retreated slightly, but the beam was firing up again and Tony barely managed to dodge it, finding it significantly more difficult than usual to avoid Baby Cthulhu's physics-breaking line of fire. Beyond his focus, he could hear someone he didn't recognize shout in pain. Even more fires erupted, though the sorcerers—more had come in in the last thirty seconds, it seemed—were putting them out as quickly as they came.

As he aimed again for the eyes with his repulsors, he caught Vision in the corner of his eye getting closer to the thing. He was phased so as to not get hit, and seemed to be trying to get closer to the eyes for a near blast.

A tentacle swung for Vision the moment he flew in range. As he was phased the android ignored its movement—so it was certainly to all of their surprise when the tentacle successfully grabbed onto Vision, quickly wrapping its arm around him.

"What the hell?" Tony shouted. "Vision!" He diverted his aim towards the tentacle holding the android.

"I cannot—cannot phase through!" he heard Vision struggle to say over the comms.

"We're working to get you out!" Rhodey said, also diverting his attacks to the tentacle. But both his and Tony's blasts seemed to have little effect on the arm, and Tony couldn't guess as to what it was made of. FRIDAY's silent analysis gave an unhelpful "Unknown" in the corner of his HUD.

They were attacking the arm for perhaps three, four seconds before the power beam started charging again. The tentacle placed Vision front and center to it.

"Shit!" was the last thing Tony heard from Rhodey before the beam shot Vision straight on. When he could see again, he saw a few scattered fires and Vision on the ground, unmoving.

"Fuck," Tony muttered. He flew down to Vision and did a quick scan. The android looked a bit crisp around the edges, but surprisingly intact. If it weren't for the completely blank look in his eyes, he'd think he was mostly all right. "What can you give me, FRI?"

"Not much, boss; the source of his power, the stone, seems to have been disrupted in some manner. It's not destroyed, and his vibranium shell held up against the attack, but he will need some time in the Cradle to repair some of the lesions in his synthetic skin. I don't know about the state of his mind, however. Move quickly, the creature's attacking again!"

The command forced Tony to move away from Vision so he wouldn't inadvertently be a target. He heard another sharp cry from one of the sorcerers.

He saw Stephen flying quickly to meet him even as he heard Rhodey say, "What's Vision's status?" over the comms.

As Stephen got there, Tony told them both, "Vision's down. Mostly intact, but that beam did something with his power source. Stephen, none of my weapons are doing anything to hurt this thing."

"I'm not surprised," Stephen said. "Look, I've been setting something up. I'm nearly done. I just need you to get it to retreat enough so that you can't see its head anymore. Keep aiming for the eyes!" With that, he flew off before Tony could shout at him for more clarification.

"What did he mean, he's _not surprised_?" Rhodey said. "How is this useful at all if we're not doing any damage to it?"

"What makes you think I have any fucking idea what Houdini's up to?" Tony retorted back. "If pushing it away from the hole helps somehow, then at least it's something!" He threw another round of homing missiles towards the eyes, then paused to dodge yet another beam.

He heard Rhodey huff over the intercom. "If this is the sort of shit that these guys deal with daily, I think I'm happy to leave it to them!"

"I tend to prefer alien monsters that take damage," Tony said back, and shot his repulsors again at the eyes.

Slowly but surely, Baby Cthulhu began to retreat. Eventually, they got it far enough away that all they could see from it were pinpricks of light from its eyes in the pitch black of the void beyond the breach, and a few spare tentacles.

Tony then saw Stephen rise high above the rift. He started making gestures he couldn't make out from such a distance, and he couldn't see anything changing, but FRIDAY said, "There's a sudden spike of energy now surrounding the breach. It reads similarly to some of Doctor Strange's spells, but the energy has a specific set of parameters that is different from anything I've seen from him before."

Before he could reply, Stephen suddenly pulled his hands wide apart, and the breach disappeared from existence, leaving behind a scattered group of exhausted sorcerers and a couple baffled Avengers.

"Well," Tony said after a beat, "I guess that's one way to end a fight."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My thanks to stardust for her counsel regarding Vision and how to handle extra-dimensional monster physics, and her eventual advice for focusing on magic rather than physics.
> 
> Wiki had nothing on Tony's formal role in SI after stepping down, but I figured he was still involved in a capacity that was powerful, but nowhere near day-to-day like a CEO is. Thus Board of Directors. Inside Director, to be precise. Since people can be on multiple boards of companies it seems quite plausible to do this, Avengers work, and his philanthropic activities.
> 
> If you're not familiar with Anish Kapoor, his blackest black paint exclusivity license, and the war fellow artist Stuart Semple started over it in 2016 (and has been going on since), I highly recommend Googling it (or finding that Tumblr post that runs it down). It's absolute gold.


	5. A Voice of Calm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOTR's my other main love. On their birthdays, hobbits actually give out gifts rather than receive them.
> 
> So, new chapter for whoever the heck's reading this on my birthday! I'll see y'all in the New Year. Enjoy, feedback loved, etc etc.

Tony's heart rate began to slow down as the battle came to an abrupt end. He quickly looked at the remaining scene: Stephen, lowering himself to the ground after that large maneuver—whatever it was. His sensors went absolutely ballistic as the sorcerer did it is what he knew. All of that was something to check on later; for now, focus.

Both Rhodey and Wong were heading for Vision, who was still on the ground. He descended to meet them and check on the android's status.

"Alright, now that the battle's over," Tony said in greeting to Wong and Rhodey as he landed nearby, "you want to tell me what sort of magic could knock Vision off his feet?"

"That breach led to the Chaos Dimension; the creature used energy directly from that dimension," Wong said as he began drawing several sigils over Vision's head—directly over his stone. "We've had little contact with energy derived from chaos, but it seems that Vision's stone is not impervious to it."

"This isn't the first time that magic's brought Vision down, either," Rhodey said to Tony.

Wong, though, looked up at the comment. "I would not call this magic. The creature was using a power source that was innate to its character and dimension. Magic, as you label the abilities of our Order, is an entirely different concept. But who was it that overpowered Vision before this?"

Rhodey and Tony exchanged glances, before Tony shrugged; he couldn't see any harm in admitting it to Wong. If anything, Wong may be able to help Vision resist such attacks in the future. "Wanda Maximoff. You know of her?"

"I do." The sigils over Vision's stone brightened once before fading. Wong nodded to himself before standing up. "Vision should be fine; it would take much more power than what was hurled at him to destroy the stone. From what I can see, the chaos energy overwhelmed his artificial synapses. I expect it will take two to three days for them to naturally reform, though perhaps you have something at your Compound to reset his body faster."

"We might," said Rhodey, easily hauling Vision up into a fireman's carry. "It will take a bit of time to repair his synthetic tissue, anyway. Thanks for the look, Wong."

"Yeah, okay," Tony said, "but if you have any ideas as to why Vision was vulnerable to both Wanda and then Baby Cthulhu here, and the answer isn't just 'magic', I'm all ears."

Wong gave him one of his imperceptible looks that gave Tony nothing. In return, Tony let the nanite helmet withdraw so he was looking at him eye-to-eye. Whatever Wong saw seemed to satisfy him, because he answered, "It's only a hypothesis at this point."

"Totally fine. Theories have to start somewhere." And the more science he could throw at this magic business, the better.

"Miss Maximoff's powers come from the same stone within Vision's head. It is likely that is the reason that she was able to 'bring him down', as Colonel Rhodes so put it. It is interesting that chaos energy did the same. The Chaos Dimension is ancient, perhaps as old as the universe itself. It is possible that a similar energy that is plentiful within that dimension is one of the core components of the stone. It is, however, just a hypothesis. Performing more experiments with the stone against chaos energy would be educational, but is ultimately impractical."

Tony narrowed his eyes at Wong; he seemed to know a lot about Vision's stone. And how did he know about Wanda's power's origins? "Why do you think Wanda's powers came from Vision's stone?" he asked, instead.

Wong seemed completely unmoved by the question. "It's my job to know such things." He then turned slightly from Tony and lifted his arms. "I'll make you and the others a portal back to the Compound, Stark."

Ah yeah, right. Portal.

"I don't suppose we're anywhere near New York?" Tony asked as he looked past all the burnt areas to the bright green forest foliage that very much did not resemble a New York December.

"Indonesia," both FRIDAY and Wong said at the same time, though the sorcerer couldn't know he was echoing her—could he?

Whatever he could or couldn't hear, Tony couldn't say. Wong was currently wearing his best poker face (and it was a very good one) as Stephen walked to them. Or no, rather—the cloak was largely supporting his weight, though Stephen was (badly) pretending otherwise.

Tony's brow lifted. "You alright there, Doc?"

"Fine. All fine. Just tired." There was a bit of a slur in his voice. "Master Wu's transported the wounded, Wong. Tell her I'm fine."

"You're not bleeding, so that's an improvement," said Wong, and Tony wondered what the hell _that_ was supposed to mean. "I've never seen a rift this large closed so quickly," he continued. "What was that last maneuver you performed there?"

"Ah… well, I noticed that the Masters, they were closing the breach—mmm, with something that resembles a lock-stitch suture. Continuous, easily interrupted. I was taught to do the same, but I had experimented—on smaller breaches. Back in my reality. Did interrupted vertical mattress sutures instead. But I left all sutures open and set them up just before the last step to close them, so I could pull them all at once… close it at all angles in one shot. Not done it… on a rift this large before."

"And you used up all your magic in the closing," Wong stated, no question in his tone.

Alarm shot through Tony, though the intensity of it admittedly surprised him. "Is that bad?" he asked.

"It can be," was Wong's frustratingly cryptic answer. Before Tony could get another word in, Wong started making the portal to the Compound.

Tony wasn't going to let Wong leave that as the last word, though. "Yeah, but is it bad in _this_ situation?" he asked, even as he heard the tell-tale sound of sparks behind him. Rhodey shifted Vision's weight as he prepared to walk through.

Wong sent a sidelong look at Stephen. "He's just exhausted himself this time, it seems. Pushing too far can lead to injury, however, which Stephen is very well aware of." Even Tony could hear the note of disapproval in his voice.

Stephen waved a hand in dismissal. That it was visibly shaking throughout the wave both caused another flare of concern to shoot through Tony and made the sorcerer's next comment less believable. "I know my limits. I can handle myself."

"Sure you can," Tony said, eyebrows still raised. "You should probably lay down or something."

Apparently the Cloak had a similar idea. As the portal became full-sized, the Cloak carried Stephen through it and turned him horizontal before settling him on the couch located in the workshop. That Stephen didn't say a word otherwise spoke volumes. Tony couldn't help but snort at the image, then went through himself (concentrating on the deep, deep red of the enchanted fabric beyond rather than the gaping hole that cut through reality as he did so. It helped a little).

Wong pursed his lips and followed just after Rhodey and Vision. He let the portal dissipate behind him as he strode to the couch. "Not here, Cloak; we're going back to the apartment."

The Cloak didn't budge and it appeared to Tony that the moment Stephen's head hit the couch, he was asleep. He saw no reason to move him. "Eh, it's fine. He can stay here for the night."

Wong pursed his lips together. "There are some precautionary wards I would need to set up first if he is to stay here overnight. To be frank, I think it would be remiss of us to allow this room to remain unwarded whether Stephen stays or not. Should Strange find you are working with Stephen, he may come here to seek information. I should have suggested this sooner."

"That alone sounds like a good reason to get this place warded up," Rhodey said. "You have my go-ahead to do what you need to do, though," he glanced at Tony, "you should work out the details with Tony. I need to get Vision to Doctor Cho and see if she could figure out a way to get him back 'online' sooner." He chuckled at his own joke as he carried Vision away, his suit more than able to take on the android's dead weight.

Tony hesitated for a moment, but his great dislike for magic had simmered down considerably over the last three weeks, and Wong made a very good point. "Can you prevent Strange from ghosting his way through the Compound?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Uh, you know, becoming invisible and snooping around. If he couldn't portal in here, either, that'd be great."

"Ah, his astral form," he murmured. "Hmm. This will take some time, I'm afraid. I hope you do not mind if I spend some time here as I prepare?"

"Not at all," Tony said. " _Mi casa es su casa_ and all that. We only have one couch down here, though."

Wong shook his head as he made a foot-sized portal that faced a shelf of books. He pulled a book through. "I don't plan to sleep here. I need to build up several layers of wards, and with a more complicated technique than is usually needed. It will take time."

Tony raised a brow. "Why's it more complicated?"

"I will need to set up wards that disguise the fact that there are any wards here, rather than the usual set of concealing wards," Wong began, making another small hole to pull out another book. "It would be better for Strange to think he cannot enter due to your technology as opposed to something magical. Then I will need to figure out a way to differentiate between him and Stephen, despite their identical DNA." Wong pulled another book from the portal after a moment of thought. "Perhaps some look at magic regarding identical twins, or Stephen's unique signature from his reality," he muttered to himself.

Tony nodded and, after a moment of thought, said, "So long as what you do doesn't have any effect on anyone but Strange, I'm okay with these wards. Do your thing, Siegfried."

Wong made a noncommittal noise in reply, which Tony guessed was in acquiescence. He was pretty sure it was.

He looked back at Stephen; he was completely out. Somehow the Cloak had managed to pull itself from under Stephen and was now serving as a blanket. It had snuggled itself around the sorcerer and resembled, at that moment, a rather comfortable-looking comforter rather than a cloak.

"The Cloak is a surprisingly affectionate bit of outerwear," Tony said.

Wong didn't say anything. Tony glanced over and saw that the other man was already busy with his books, throwing up a bit of magic a moment later.

Mmm. Tony could work with that. He needed to see to some new enhancements to his suit, anyway. With one last look at Stephen, he went to his desk and, with a few gestures, had the holographic screens for the nanotech armor up.

They worked the next hour or so in a comfortable silence. The sounds of magic from Wong were so familiar now, after spending so many hours with Stephen working on calibrating the sensors for the portal magic, that it almost felt normal in some weird way.

It was sort of a nice feeling, which in itself was a great change of pace from everything over the last two or so years.

Tony was pulled out of his concentration some time later by Wong saying, "That wasn't there the last time I was here." He turned his head only to see him staring at the remnants of his blast on the wall.

 _Well, shit._ "Ah, yeah. An accident."

Wong was giving him an unreadable silent look that immediately made him feel uncomfortable.

Tony looked away. "Nobody got hurt or anything."

"What happened, Stark?"

Ugh, he was even worse than Rhodey. Tony ran a hand through his hair and blew out a breath in frustration. He could still feel Wong's eyes on his back. "Look, it really wasn't anything."

He could hear Wong closing the distance between them. _Crap._ He turned partially to meet him, but avoided his gaze and tinkered with some microprocessor bits that he had on one of the nearby tables. Easy building, microprocessors. Took fine motor skills for the parts he could do with his hands and simple tools.

"I'm not going to allow Stephen to sleep here if there is a danger of one of your machines malfunctioning and attacking him," Wong said lowly, his voice calm but quite unrelenting.

Shit, that's not what he wanted, either. "No, it wasn't one of my 'machines'," he groused. _Fuck it._ It came out in a rush. "It was me, all right? I was sleep deprived and my brain short-circuited and forgot that Stephen was coming last Friday. I thought it was Strange." Wong didn't say anything immediately to his confession, which only made him antsy. "It won't happen again," he added.

"You are certain of that?" was Wong's eventual answer.

This time, he looked up to meet Wong's unblinking, solemn gaze. "Yeah. I'm sure." He'd been purposefully avoiding the all-nighters ever since he woke up early, so early Saturday morning last week, before dawn, and came down to the basement only to see the damage. FRIDAY had shown him the replay and—the fact that he had been so close to badly injuring or even killing Stephen woke up his brain like getting fully doused in cold water.

Words couldn't describe how thankful he was that Stephen had that cloak watching his back, now, if only to save him from whatever stupidity Tony threw at him.

Wong seemed satisfied with his sincerity, at least, because he went back to where he was before the conversation started and began his spellcasting once more. "I don't think even Strange would be brazen enough to portal directly into the Compound. Regardless, these wards will now prevent him from doing so."

"I'm not so sure," Tony said, abandoning his work at the moment to step closer to Wong. The symbols and sigils he drew in the air were pretty in a way, though they reminded Tony of nothing he'd ever seen in nature. He'd have to ask FRIDAY later what she could figure of them. "He was getting into places that no one could easily sneak into to steal all manner of power sources. It seemed no place was safe from him."

"Anything without magical wards set against him, yes, all were—and are—vulnerable," Wong agreed. "He is quite set on his quest to gain whatever power sources he can to better enhance his own magical capabilities."

Tony crossed his arms, a sudden thought coming to mind. Maybe Wong would play ball. "That's why Vision wasn't with us the day we found Stephen, you know. Back in Sokovia. I don't know much about that stone in Vision's head, but I do know it is its own contained power source. A very, very significant power source."

Wong paused in his ministrations and glanced at Tony. "You have questions."

Perceptive of him. He didn't expect any less, to be honest. "Yeah, I do. You seemed to know a bit about Vision's stone when you checked on him after the battle."

He didn't say anything in reply yet, but instead went back to creating his wards, moving a few feet to another part of the room. Tony followed so he could keep his voice low without disturbing Stephen. "What do you know about it?"

"Quite a bit," was Wong's vague, annoying answer. "I think it would be better to establish what you know about it before I say further."

Tony narrowed his eyes, unable to help that bit of suspicion that arose at Wong's comment. Wong didn't seem bothered either way, which only made the situation more frustrating. But rational thought took over: Stephen and Wong and their collective group seemed to know a lot about anything resembling magic, and although in some way Vision's stone resembled magic with its abilities, Tony himself wouldn't call it "magic". However, it was unlikely Wong was faking his knowledge about the stone in their conversation after the battle. This didn't feel like a bluff where Wong was fishing for information from Tony—with perhaps exception to the amount of knowledge Tony _already_ had regarding the Vision's stone. Was there any danger in telling Wong (and through him, probably Stephen) how much he and potentially the other Avengers knew?

 _No_ , Tony decided. They had proven their capabilities and dedication to a similar cause as he, especially today.

"Thor called it an Infinity Stone," he said. "The Mind Stone in particular. Said there were others out there." Specifically Thor had said that _'the Mind Stone is the fourth of the Infinity Stones to show up in the last few years_ ' and, more forebodingly, had followed it up with, ' _That's not a coincidence._ ' Tony had reviewed his notes with FRIDAY earlier this year, when he was studying Strange's trends and other power sources he may come looking for. He hadn't thought about them much in the last two years, what with his life falling apart all around him, but when Strange attacked SI in his hunt for power sources, the stones had been brought to his mind again. And if Wong knew something about them, it was well worth asking.

But he'd see what Wong said before he said anything else.

Wong moved another few feet to start up another series of wards before saying, "Thor is correct. The Mind Stone is one of six Infinity Stones within the universe."

Six. And four out of six had shown up recently? Interesting. "Do you know anything about what they are? Anything about the others?"

"I do." Wong glanced over at him, then exhaled. "At the dawn of the universe, there was nothing until what is known as the Big Bang. What the scientists of Earth are unaware of is that from this creation, six elemental crystals were formed and hurled across the virgin universe. These crystals, the Infinity Stones, each control an essential aspect of existence. The Mind Stone you are aware of. You have also had contact with the Space Stone, which helped open a portal above New York City six years ago."

Realization came to Tony. "The Tesseract. Of course."

"Thor was likely aware of its nature when he was last here on Earth in 2015. He'd dealt with three of the Infinity Stones by then. Did you know he was on Earth in 2013?"

"Yeah, of course. London. Told him to stop by, but heard he went to hang out with his then-girlfriend instead." Tony idly wondered if Jane Foster was dating someone else now. Three years was a long time to be a no-show.

"What you may not realize is that the alien that Thor battled in Greenwich was wielding another one of the Infinity Stones. The Aether, or the Reality Stone, is the only one known to be fluid in nature. I would have liked to study it," Wong mused. "Both the Tesseract and the Aether are likely on Asgard, now."

Tony pursed his lips together. That was three of the four that Thor had mentioned. "What do you know about the rest?"

Wong stepped into another part of the room to restart his cycle of wards before answering. "The Time Stone is currently hidden and safe. To my knowledge, the Power Stone is also hidden, though my information regarding that stone is less current. As to the Soul Stone, even the Masters of the Mystic Arts have never learned its location, rumoured or otherwise. So long as these remain unknown to the greater world, we may rest a little easier."

Tony was not expecting Thor's information to contradict what Wong knew. What fourth stone did Thor mean? He decided to let him in on his intel. "Thor's information was a bit different," he admitted, earning him a sharp look from Wong. "Not that much," he added, "but he said that _four_ had shown up in the last few years. Not three."

The sorcerer stopped his spellcasting for a moment to think. "I doubt it is the Soul Stone, and I know it is not the Time Stone. It was very likely the Power Stone, then." He sighed. "The Power Stone, in eons past, was coveted for its destructive potential, often by those with ill intent. If it indeed has been unearthed as Thor says, then that is a bad omen."

He knew it, he _knew_ something like this was eminent. And he only felt more vindicated by Wong's affirmation that his bad feelings, this lingering sense of _something_ coming, a feeling that he had carried for six years, ever since New York, was justified. "I knew something was coming," he muttered aloud. "So, what, you think someone carrying this destructive Power Stone will come to Earth sometime?"

Wong gave Tony an unreadable look that made Tony want to look away, but he forced himself to hold the other man's gaze. Wong said, after that moment of silence, "If anyone came to Earth with the Power Stone, I believe we would be able to combat it. My worries lay more along the lines of someone looking to collect all the stones."

"Collect all the stones? Why? What could they do with all of them?"

"If the being holding them is strong enough to wield the stones and could withstand the force of all six stones being used together? Anything within their imagination. They could rebuild the entire universe in their image."

A shock of ice shot through Tony's veins at Wong's solemn proclamation. "Do you think—do you think Strange would try to do this?"

Wong paused as he put the question into consideration. "I do not think he would survive such an attempt," he said. "Furthermore, I don't know how much Strange actually knows about the Infinity Stones. Our documentation on the stones is from one source that he does not have access to right now." Tony felt himself relax a bit, until Wong said, "However, there are beings within our universe with the stamina to wield all six stones, though they are few. If the Power Stone has emerged again, it is possible that one of those people will, as well. Strange needs to be neutralized before we can prepare for that potential threat."

Tony exhaled and wiped a hand across his face. "Yeah, we're working on that." He paused as he considered Wong's specific wording. "How do you know the Time Stone is safe?" he asked.

"It's my duty to know such things," Wong answered, starting up the wards once more.

"No, you said the specific locations of the other Infinity Stones that you knew about—the two on Asgard and the one with Vision. You gave more information about the two you _didn't_ know much about than you gave on the one you claim is safe." Tony narrowed his eyes at him. "What makes the Time Stone so special? Where is it?"

Wong remained completely unperturbed by his stare and continued working without pause. "And what would the knowledge of its location accomplish for you, Stark?"

Tony frowned at the unexpected question. "The more good guys that know where they are, the more people that can move them if some being does try to collect all six. Especially if this Time Stone's on Earth."

Wong didn't so much as twitch at the accusation, to Tony's frustration. His poker face was ridiculous. "On the contrary: the more people that know the location of an Infinity Stone, the more people there are to threaten, torture, or coerce to find its location. You do not need the burden of knowledge."

He frowned further; knowledge was power, not a burden. But despite his legendary stubbornness, he also knew a lost cause when he saw one, and reluctantly dropped the topic to pursue one currently of more importance.

"Fine. Putting the Infinity Stones aside, you brought up a point I wanted to address." Wong made a noise in acknowledgement. "You know part of neutralizing Strange is getting the anti-magic cuffs working, right?" Wong made another noise, this one in confirmation. Tony continued, "Well, I've got something of a feeling that Stephen really doesn't want to be the test subject for them. He's given looks at the schematics that would make milk curdle. I don't suppose you'd be a willing test subject?"

Again Wong paused, though this time it was less heavy. "I would not mind, but unfortunately I think it will have to be Stephen that tests them."

"Due to their matching DNA?"

"Not necessarily." He was almost done with his circle around the room, and they were close to Stephen again. Wong lowered his voice. "Out of all sorcerers remaining of our Order, Stephen is the most powerful by far. You saw his work today."

Tony blinked at the frank admission. "Yeah, I did. Was that something unusual?"

"I do not believe any of the Masters yet remaining would have been able to close the rift so quickly and thoroughly, even with his newly applied technique. He has an unusual affinity for the Mystic Arts, something that, unfortunately, his counterpart shares. The closest anyone will be able to simulate how well these will work on Strange will be Stephen."

Tony exhaled. "I was afraid you were going to say something like that." He glanced over at Stephen, his stern countenance relaxed in sleep. "I'm not sure how to ask him, though."

"Today will have helped build his trust in you, as it did me," said Wong, causing Tony to pivot about to stare at him. Wong ignored his flabbergasted look as he continued his wards. "Give him a little more time. I think that, in due time, Stephen will trust you enough to agree to test them with only a little hesitation. But the hesitation cannot be avoided; any sorcerer would feel uneasy at the thought of their powers being blocked."

Tony found his voice again. "Yeah, 'course. Makes sense."

The conversation fell silent for the last minute of the wards, and then Wong put his arms down. "I am finished. That will keep Strange from infiltrating, should he ever learn that Stephen lives and you are both working together.

"You don't think he realizes that we saved him?"

"I think the longer he is unsure about Stephen's survival, the better," was Wong's answer. "I should see to my Order and assist in any tasks that remain from the breach's closing. Have a good night, Tony."

First name basis. Nice. But Wong's comment reminded Tony that it was late evening there in New York. The daylight in Indonesia had thrown him off. "Yeah, you too, Wong."

A portal later and Wong was gone, leaving Tony alone in the workshop with a sleeping Stephen and an overprotective cloak. As if realizing it was being watched, the Cloak raised part of its collar and turned towards him.

Still a bit off-putting, but funny enough, he was getting used to it. "You keep an eye on him, Red. I have some work I need to do before I go to sleep." He really wanted to perform some computations on the upgrades he was making to Peter's new suit, and hadn't had the chance yet. While Stephen was sleeping was as good a time as any.

With one last look at Stephen, he turned around and went back to his workstation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did my best here to try to connect the power of the Infinity Stone with the Chaos magic that Wanda is so famous for in the comics. I figured that Chaos energy, one of the oldest energies in the universe, could be one of the core building components of at least the Mind Stone. It's a fun thought.
> 
> "Mi casa es su casa" is Spanish for "My house is your house" which is a common saying (at least in California) to invite someone into your house and allow them to make themselves at home. Tony lived in CA for some time, so he'd have picked it up. I imagine it's common in other heavy Spanish-speaking areas of the US, though beyond that I'm not sure.
> 
> Wong being the Ultimate Source of Knowledge on not only what all six Infinity Stones are, but *where* most are currently located, comes from the canon tie-in comic Marvel's Avengers: Infinity War Prelude #2. Probably one of the many books of information in Kamar-Taj (though it'd have to be updated for all the stuff that happened in the last few years, hah). A couple lines in the fic are adapted from the text in the comic.
> 
> Thor's lines about the Infinity Stones all come at the very end of Age of Ultron. I figure FRIDAY would have had that conversation stored for Tony.
> 
> Do y'all remember, when the films were coming out, how all the containers for the stones were spelling out THANOS? Tesseract, Aether, Necklace, Orb, Staff? And I think the 'H' with 'Soul' turned out to be 'Heart', if I recall the theories correctly. Still, fun easter egg.


	6. Reveal the Thoughts

It was a nightmare that woke Stephen up from his exhaustion-induced sleep, that much he was aware of. It was a strange mix of the Dark Dimension thrown in with shards of glass from shattered car windows, slicing the Cloak into shreds before stabbing him through to impale him on the uncomfortable dark ground that made up one of the little planetoids that cluttered that dimension. It was a nightmare he could have done without, but when did his mind ever ease up on him?

He made no sound as he awoke, though the Cloak still seemed to realize that something was off, if the way it had raised its collar to figuratively stare at him was anything to go by.

It took his brain a few slow seconds to gain his bearings, but when it did, it left him surprised. What was he doing sleeping on the couch in the Compound? He could remember the rift with the Chaos Dimension easily, but he figured Wong would drag him back to the apartment afterwards. Ever since he survived his encounter with Strange, Wong was quite insistent that Stephen didn't sleep anywhere unwarded.

But there was an unusual energy within the air. Had he…? Stephen focused within and saw signs of Wong's wards encompassing the basement. They were unusually constructed as well, and easy to miss if he hadn't seen and studied Wong's work over his apartment for so many months.

Hmm. He wasn't sure what to make of it.

Stephen pushed himself first into a sitting position, then up on his feet to test his balance. The sleep had definitely helped, though he was sure he was going to do more research and less practical tests today until he felt more fully restored.

He didn't see anyone at first, but as he took a few steps away from the couch the angle of the room changed, and he saw what a tall bit of machinery had concealed: Tony Stark, slumped over his desk fast asleep.

That was unexpected. And that position looked absolutely horrible for his back. As Stephen opened his mouth to wake him up, though, the holographic images on display around the engineer caught his eye.

This wasn't the Iron Man suit. Stephen had seen him working on it at least half the times he'd visited the Compound, whether it was evident on a screen or some hastily sketched drawings with handwritten computations that went well beyond his own mathematical prowess. No, it was another suit entirely on the holographic display. He stepped closer in curiosity, squinting at the details. It looked like Tony was making some sort of mechanical arms—or legs, maybe?—fold out of the suit, though as to what purpose Stephen had no idea.

His eyes strayed to other parts of the design, then widened in surprise when he saw the insignia upon the center of the chest. "Spider-Man?" he murmured.

That soft word seemed to stir Tony from what must have been a very light sleep. The man shifted and then opened his eyes before he jerked his body upright and swerved his head around. He saw Stephen, then followed his gaze to the screens.

Stephen started off with, "That looked like an uncomfortable position."

Tony shrugged a shoulder. "I've had worse."

He made a noise of acknowledgment before addressing the elephant in the room to get it out of the way. "Is it Stark Industries or the Avengers Initiative funding this Spider-Man suit?"

The other grunted before saying, "Neither. Personal project."

Stephen shot him a look. "So I am not the only thing you're hiding from the government," he commented. "This is really impressive, though, from what I can tell. A metal suit like yours?"

"Nanites, actually," Tony corrected, crossing his arms. "One more suitable for space, if it ever gets to that sort of threat. I'd rather not, but… I don't think 2012 is a one-off."

"Me neither," Stephen admitted. At Tony's look, he added, "Both your New York incident and mine were very similar, from what I could tell. Just a few different players."

Tony narrowed his eyes in interest, but looked back at the suit. "What's your interest in Spider-Man?" Tony asked casually, though Stephen could see in his tenseness that it was anything but a casual topic. Interesting.

"I have no particular interest in Spider-Man," he admitted, though he was growing curious as to the vigilante's connection to Tony. Did they know each other well? "I'm more interested in what this means concerning you and what's going on with the Sokovia Accords."

That did nothing to relax Tony; if anything, he stiffened even further. "What do you mean?"

"I read what I could on the Sokovia Accords and the so-called Avengers Civil War when I first came into this universe. We had neither of those events in mine," he explained at Tony's furrowed brow. "From what I read, you were a staunch supporter of the Accords. From our brief conversation about them a few weeks ago, you said something about amendments that didn't go through. But from what I understand, this," he gestured to the suit, "is considered a breach of them, in aiding a vigilante operating outside of approved persons that have signed them and have been vetted."

"And why does this matter to you?" Tony frowned. "You weren't above breaking the Accords when you asked me to join you in finding Strange. You certainly haven't signed them."

"That's not my point," Stephen retorted. "I'm just trying—I don't understand what happened to change your mind. There's nothing public from you about the Accords since the summer of 2016. Was that all a front?"

"Don't be an idiot," Tony snapped, then sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "It's—it's complicated. But no, nothing I said to the media was a front, at least not about the Accords. The Avengers needed to—do—should be held to some sort of rulebook. Maybe not a panel at the UN that could take hours in an emergency that we only have minutes to deal with, but some sort of agreement with individual countries around the world, or a basic mandate from the UN—doesn't matter—all established way ahead of all future crises. And if an Avenger went against what was set down for one reason or another, a proper trial process would be set in place to deal with it, like a court martial or something. It's what I was aiming for. They were supposed to be _just_ that."

Stephen's brow furrowed. "But they didn't cover just the Avengers."

"No. And fuck, they weren't supposed to ask for DNA samples and require everyone with innate powers who signed to wear tracking devices." Tony smiled humorlessly. "Vision has one, did you know?"

At first, alarm raced through Stephen. Wouldn't that mean that someone, somewhere saw Vision use portals in their first meeting, then again when they went to the rift? But he quickly caught on to Tony's unchanging stance and calmed himself. "You figured out how to turn it off."

" _I_ didn't; _he_ did," Tony corrected him. "Figured out how to spoof his location on his transponder sometime in late 2016, early 2017. Even I'm not 100% sure when it started. Idiots in the government that are meant to monitor it still haven't caught on, though."

"They're probably relying on you to alert them if he did something like that," Stephen said, studying Tony's reaction.

Tony exhaled slowly and looked away. "Well, it didn't happen that way."

Stephen furrowed his brow as he studied him. "What changed your mind?" Following a hunch, he added, "Does it have to do with Spider-Man?"

He kept his look elsewhere. "You won't just drop this, will you?"

"I would like to understand the situation better," Stephen said. He halted a moment, then added more quietly, "From the little amount of time we've known each other, Tony, you've been a man of staunch conviction with reasoning behind all your actions, no matter where they fall in terms of the law. You do not strike me as the type to change your opinion on a whim."

Tony huffed softly at that. He stared at the wall in quiet thought for a moment, and Stephen held the silence.

"I brought Spider-Man with me to Germany to take in the others that summer. I figured with him, they'd be even more outnumbered and wouldn't fight. More importantly, it was also part of my idea to streamline Spider-Man into the Avengers. If the UN saw this—this guy had helped bring in a couple fugitives, he'd be left alone while he did his vigilante business in New York until I had him in officially."

He sighed. "But the others had backup of their own, and the airport didn't go as I had thought it would. Spider-Man's made of tough stuff and I wouldn't have brought him if he wasn't, but it definitely wasn't the best case scenario. And we didn't actually catch them, so that blew that whole plan out of the water."

"After," Tony waved his arm, "all that, I put some distance between us. I figured that Secretary Ross would be too busy hunting Cap and the others to focus much on the home front with small-time vigilantism."

Stephen frowned. "Why not just bring him into the Avengers after the conflict in the summer?"

"The tracker, for one thing," Tony started. "About a month or so after shit finished blowing up, I learned that they weren't putting transponders in enhanced people's suits like I assumed, but in their _bodies_." He made a face. "Read the whole thing through and started to get my lawyers drafting amendments about that time, but I told you that story."

"You said Ross ignored them."

"He did. I tried a few other foreign UN reps, and one version of my amendments made it to talks in late 2016, but they weren't passed. Too afraid of not being able to track any enhanced military personnel, maybe. Maybe just a power grab. Maybe both."

Tony shrugged. "Regardless, since Spider-Man's powers are innate in some manner, he'd be tagged accordingly. And I don't think he'd be comfortable with it." He paused, as if considering something, then added, "He's also on the younger side. Definitely not our generation. I figured I had plenty of time to recruit him while Ross was catching larger fish and, in the meantime, I could wait for all the lawsuits and court cases about enhanced people in law and military getting trackers implanted and DNA pulled. The ACLU's had a field day the past two years." He smirked a bit, then sobered again.

"Unfortunately, the—Spider-Man didn't lay as low as I hoped he would. Did something very brave, heroic, good—and got the attention of the feds. And though I tried to, uh, deter him, it didn't work. And then Ross contacted me."

Stephen's brow furrowed as Tony caught himself there. That wasn't the first time he was going to call Spider-Man something else. How close was he to him? He wasn't entirely sure Tony would answer truthfully, and for now did not press him. "What did Ross want?"

"Agents saw me talking with Spider-Man. He wanted more information on him, claimed he was acting against the Accords and that he should be jailed. I told him I was working to recruit him, but that he had a few stipulations."

He huffed. "It took a bit of work, though Rhodey and Pep—" He cut himself off and cleared his throat. "Well, I got some help. We managed to convince Ross to make tracking on the suits only and to forego releasing his DNA and identity to the UN 'until he was no longer a trainee', which… was a stalling tactic, admittedly. This was the end of September in 2016, but I was hearing about court cases already starting to be scheduled so I figured it was only a matter of time until that maybe wasn't required."

"Big on the secret identity, then."

Tony nodded. "So I offered him a position in the Avengers." He made a face. "He refused."

Stephen blinked. He wasn't expecting that.

He shook his head. "Thought he wasn't ready or… some such bullshit. So there went my plan with Ross."

"And you've kept Ross off his back since?"

"Yep. I bombarded every relevant legal team with as many cases I could find at the end of 2016, and still shoot cases—and money—anonymously to various lawyers across the world as I hear about incidents, and Ross's guys in the State Department and his allies in the Justice Department have been very busy since." He paused for a moment. "I don't see Spider-Man anymore to help keep his profile low, but I have a middle man to keep in touch, help with suit upgrades, and so on. The local police seem to like him, New York state officials don't want to touch the Accords, and the feds are too busy with bigger fish to fry. So that's how it's been for about two years." He paused, as if to say something, but ended up remaining silent.

"I appreciate the explanation," said Stephen, letting his earnestness slip through his voice. He really was; he had a better understanding of Tony that helped him trust him even further. Still, he admitted to himself that there was much more he wanted to know.

"Yeah, sure," Tony said, looking to the side as he brought down the holographic screens with the suit. "So uh, I was thinking."

Stephen quirked his eyebrows up. "Yes?"

"So I noticed uh, it's been a week since Vision got you your research and you haven't made much progress on it."

His pride bristled at the comment. "It's a spell that doesn't currently exist; creating it is going to take _time_."

Tony must have heard his offense because he held up a hand. "I'm not saying that to annoy you Dumbledore, jeez. What I was _trying_ to get at is that it might make more sense if you just, I dunno, do all your research here with the sensor. I don't want you taking the spare sensor anywhere, you know that, but that doesn't mean _you_ can't work with it here. Can even bunk here now, if you want. Wong did his magic thing, and we've got a shower down here that's meant as an emergency shower for lab stuff, but no one's doing any lab stuff down here so it's yours. I'll get a towel, toothbrush, whatever's needed."

Stephen paused at the invitation. It was… unexpected. "I don't want to intrude," he said slowly.

Tony shrugged. He looked down at a pen he started fiddling with. "You're not. Intruding, I mean. You don't interrupt me unless it's something important and you like my music."

"It's good music."

"Yeah, exactly. But we seem to work okay together. Figured it might just be easier for you to have ready access to the spare sensor." Tony wasn't quite making eye contact with him as he spoke, which made Stephen's brow furrow in confusion. Was Tony… nervous?

 _Interesting._ "I'm not sure if I'll need the sensor on hand for much of my research."

"That's fine, it was just a—"

"But," Stephen interrupted before Tony could go on, "the company during my research would not be unwelcome. And it's certainly more comfortable here than where I'm currently doing my research." And wasn't that the truth.

"Ah, well." Tony paused. "In that case, yeah, stick around as much as you'd like, Doc. I mean, so long as you don't suddenly change study habits."

"I don't see that happening," was Stephen's dry reply.

"Good, good. Oh, while you're here, I set up your tablet again." He gestured to a far countertop, where Stephen could see a nondescript tablet. "I connected it to the server that's tracking all the sensors, though if you want to go online, you'll need to click the WiFi button each time. That'll automatically kill its connection to the private server until you turn the WiFi off again. Just an extra level of security."

"Not a bad idea, considering the number of agencies that monitor this facility," Stephen murmured. "I appreciate the extra measures."

"Trust me, the last thing we need is for every department in the US government to be under the impression that I'm harboring Strange," was Tony's reply. "That'd make for a real sucky day, and I know sucky days. Oh, speaking of sucky days," he swung around in his chair to look at him, "I have to go to a Christmas-holiday-end-of-year party in two days—uh, well, technically tomorrow, it's Friday now—for SI. In New York City."

Stephen's brow furrowed. "They're expecting you to make an appearance?"

"Yep." He looked to the side. "I'm the founder's son and on the Board of Directors. I didn't go to the LA one last weekend, but I'm expected at this one. Should be the last public appearance I need to make for the rest of the year, though. I got all the charity stuff out of the way the last two weeks of November."

"Sounds cumbersome."

"Cumbersome is the word you choose? What century are you from, again?"

"The one with a larger vocabulary, apparently," Stephen retorted easily. "What time are you leaving?"

"Eh, sometime after noon. Rhodey and Vision will be around to keep you company, though—well, if Vision is up and about by then."

"Only if it doesn't take them from their work," Stephen replied. "Look, I don't think I'm getting any further sleep, so if you are serious about me working here with my research, I'll start moving my resources here."

"'Course I'm serious." He paused. "You're uh, up for doing magic again? Didn't you exhaust it all out or something?"

"I exhausted myself, but didn't completely 'run out', so to speak. That's a bit different." No, pushing himself beyond his limits was hopefully something he could avoid, as that potentially led to a rather messy death. "I just need to take it easy today, and a portal isn't exactly complicated."

Tony nodded gamely. "Yes, cutting through space-time to reach another destination anywhere on earth, easy-peasy. I should've known that."

Stephen shot him another dry look, then found a secluded part of the basement workshop that wasn't visible from the doorway. It was there he made a portal to move his research from his hideout to the Compound. Maybe he should consider a pocket dimension here, as well; it was extra work, but at this point of time, he couldn't be too careful.

As they fell again into a comfortable silence, each man working on his own project, Stephen considered Tony—or perhaps more accurately, Tony's schedule. The party could potentially be a way to see how much the average person at SI knew about the attack on Pepper Potts (and if they knew anything at all about the instigator). It's a shame he hadn't known about the Los Angeles party which may have been a better location for information digging considering that was where the attack happened, but maybe there would be something to learn at the New York one.

It was also some sort of justification for his curiosity in seeing Tony interact with his employees, or really anyone that wasn't he, Rhodey, Vision, or Wong. And he could maybe see what the people who worked at his company thought of him. After all, Stephen knew what Tony's counterpart in his own reality was like. Tony Stark from his Earth put on a public charm that fooled the masses, and which included generous donations to universities and various charities, but that was a front for a manipulative, sociopathic man. It was… it was still possible that this Tony Stark was doing the same to Stephen, as much as Stephen didn't want to believe it. He was ready to give up that image, but the image of Tony's anger in their argument when he was being held there against his will kept on coming back to his mind, causing just the smallest bit of doubt.

So he _had_ to be sure. If he was going to really, really trust Tony Stark, seeing him interact with his company's employees and finding a general consensus of what the rest of the company thought of him could really help in settling those nerves and finally put the last of his doubts to rest. If he was going to be staying at the Compound, he had to, for his own peace of mind.

And in the back of his mind, the niggling thought of how similar his background was to Strange's persisted. Maybe—maybe if he could fully trust the Tony Stark in this reality, maybe that meant he himself was capable of staying upon the moral path from which another Doctor Stephen Strange fell. Maybe that meant he wasn't doomed to one day fail in that manner.

Maybe.

* * *

Friday passed with no news and little progress for Stephen. After moving everything from the Australian caves to the basement of the Compound, he had begun his research again and continued throughout the rest of the day until his body reminded him that he was nearing the twenty-four hour mark of no sleep. As much as he wanted to ignore his body, the voice of reason within him (that sounded suspiciously like Wong) pushed him to the surprisingly comfortable couch for the end of his first full day at the Compound.

The issue he studied all day (and indeed was the cause for most of his research throughout the last week) was that the process of setting up an everlasting spell with a trigger mechanism was proving to be incredibly complicated magic. He thought it would be easier than it was; wards were more-or-less everlasting with minimal maintenance, so he figured that another spell could be set up similarly. The difficulty lay in setting up the spell to 'wait' until a specific trigger. Wards were already running when they were set, as opposed to going off at a certain time. Some were reactionary in nature, sure, but they were still actively up. Stephen needed to set this spell to be completely dormant until the trigger of a portal activated it.

Thus far he had not found any sort of precedents in other spells, but he was just at the tip of the iceberg in the amount of material he had to look through and research. The material Vision retrieved from the London Sanctum had some pertinent information, but not all of it. And no one in the Order seemed to know which book or scroll potentially had the information he was looking for.

It's times like this that he wished there was a Google for the study of magic.

So he had plenty to do on Saturday when he was mostly left to himself. Tony dropped in for a quick look to see how he was before leaving for NYC, and Rhodey came in a couple hours later to check in on him and give him an update on Vision, who was "nearly recovered". Stephen had told Rhodey that he was likely going to go to sleep early due to waking up so early. He was sure that the colonel wouldn't bother him then, so he would remain undisturbed while he was out of his body and eavesdropping at the party.

It was remarkably easy for Stephen to find the location and time of the New York Stark Industries party. All he had to do was follow the internet gossip mill of people constantly on the lookout for Tony Stark, and he found the sister of an employee giving all the details. How Tony handled the attention, Stephen had no idea. As a skilled neurosurgeon, he had had a large amount of acclaim in a very specific field of study that brought him a lot of attention at certain events, but otherwise was left alone in his day-to-day life. Tony, though, Tony couldn't go anywhere without a getup or would otherwise be recognized. It just seemed exhausting.

So in the early evening, a couple hours after the party started, Stephen laid himself down upon the couch and calmed his heart beat. Then he pushed out his astral form and headed over to New York City while the world slowed down about him and he moved in real time at the speed of sound.

It was about a hundred miles from the Avengers Compound to the center of Manhattan so for Stephen, it felt to him like it took about two hours to get there. However, in real time it took only a few minutes, as he found when he arrived at the venue and brought himself back to the normal flow of time. It was, by far, the longest he had traveled around Earth in his astral form. One day he would need to see just how far his boundaries went. After all, the Ancient One had pushed him through several dimensions in mere minutes.

But that was a thought process for another night. For now, Stephen went to the floor of the building that held the holiday party.

The room was absolutely enormous. A score of very large, shimmering chandeliers shone down upon dozens and dozens of tables set on one side of the room; on the other side was a stage and large dance floor. The room was decked in garland and holly, and at the corners of the room were large pine trees glistening in silver and gold ornaments. Several bars and dessert tables lined the walls of the ballroom, providing plenty of after-dinner goods for everyone there. And there were plenty of people. There were several hundred, maybe even a thousand well-dressed individuals gathered in that space talking at the tables, at the sides of the room, or on the dance floor while they swayed and swung to the live band.

It had been about three years since Stephen had seen anything remotely like this, and usually the venue wasn't so large. Still, it made sense as the New York branch of Stark Industries was its second-largest, just behind Los Angeles. Thousands of people in the New York area were employed by the company.

But it would make finding Tony a major pain in the ass. Granted, Stephen was in no particular hurry to find him at the moment, as he was more interested in trying to see if he could find anyone gossiping about the famous Iron Man and what Stark Industries employees said about him after they've had a few drinks to loosen their tongues. And so he lowered himself into the crowd and floated from conversation to conversation at a leisurely pace as he eavesdropped on them all.

"—Dr Armond is the Head Designer of the new Medical Technology Department—"

"—my son is graduating in the spring. I keep telling him to start applying for jobs now—"

"—but both Sally and Bethany complained, saying it was unfair to female employees. Then upper management heard what Erwin was trying to do and _I heard_ he had to watch a 15 minute video about the menstrual cycle—"

"—you won't believe how drunk Zurrow got last year—"

"—amazing party game, but only if you're not easily offended because half of the cards are offensive. See, Dianne really pissed off Cheri with the 'Harry Potter and the Chamber of Auschwitz' combo. But it won her the round—"

Stephen flitted through the crowd from group to group, conversation to conversation, finding no one speaking about anything that particularly mattered to him. At one point, he stopped when he overheard 'Pepper', but quickly realized they were discussing food a few seconds later.

It was a few more minutes and several groups explored later that he found himself stopping in his tracks in surprise when he saw a familiar face in the crowd that wasn't Tony's: his doctor from his first time at the Avengers Compound. Doctor Helen Cho, he recalled. She was out of her lab coat and wearing something fitting the scene with a black dress and delicate gold jewelry to accompany it. She was talking to a woman he didn't recognize: a tall Caucasian woman with dark brown hair curled at the ends, wearing a smart red party dress and standing in a manner that carried an aura of command with it, despite the setting. Maybe one of the upper echelons of directors or corporate executives at Stark Industries? Still, Helen Cho was someone he actually knew, so he paused for a bit.

They were talking about pets. Childhood pets, neighbor's pets, family's pets. This train of conversation lasted several minutes, and Stephen was thinking about abandoning them to find another group before something relevant came into the conversation.

"I have to say, Maria, that not having a pet is the worst thing about living at the Compound," Helen said.

"Oh, I fully agree," said Maria. "I mean, my job with S.H.I.E.L.D. wasn't very conducive to having pets, but I move around a lot less now."

"Most meetings can be done over a video call with your job," said Helen. "I know you're still doing work for Stark Industries' global security alongside your work for the Avengers, but how often do you have to go somewhere for SI?"

Maria took a sip from her glass. "It was three times last year. This year I ended up staying a month in Los Angeles after—after the incident there." She frowned and glanced away.

Helen looked apologetic. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring that up."

"No, no, it's fine." Maria offered Helen a polite smile. "Everyone knows what happened."

"I wish I was more acquainted with Ms Potts. I've heard wonderful things about her."

"I thought—think of her as a friend. She helped me get the position in SI after everything with S.H.I.E.L.D. came crashing down. I'll always owe her for that."

"Oh, I didn't realize that," Helen said, frowning. "I'm sorry."

Maria gestured at her. "Do you know anything you could tell me? About her condition?"

"I'm afraid not. Tony's been very tight-lipped about the situation. I don't even know who her doctors are, though I've been assured that they are 'very good'."

"I figured he'd ask for your advice about doctors. I think he trusts you quite a bit."

"Oh he did, after it first happened. Wanted the best neurologists and neurosurgeons in the world. But he must have found someone he trusted soon after because the questions stopped about a month after the incident. Whoever is treating her, I hope Ms Potts has the best. She deserves that much."

"Yeah." Maria took another drink from her glass. "I didn't mean to change the topic. We were talking about pets in the Compound. You know Tony better—do you think he would be down for that?"

"Oh, I don't see why not. We'd have to work out some logistics, of course, but I think an area for cats and dogs would be great." Helen frowned. "But we'd have to get approval from the government, which is more your field than mine."

"I think there are a few arms I could twist. Something about the psychological benefits for the scientists, doctors, and eventual Avengers there."

"That's a good angle to go about it. I'm friends with Dr Singh—the psychologist?"

"Oh, I don't think we've met."

"I think I could get him to give you a word about the health benefits, if you need it."

"Helen? Doctor Helen Cho?"

Stephen was just as surprised as the two women by the newcomer: a portly man, somewhere in his late thirties or early forties, with tan skin and Polenysian features, though Stephen couldn't specify it from there. He wore a cautious smile that grew wide when Helen turned to face him. "I wasn't expecting to see you here, Helen!"

"Oh my goodness! Aleki, hello!" Helen embraced him, careful not to spill her drink. "I haven't seen you in years! What are you doing here? Do you work for SI now?"

He laughed and returned the embrace. "Yes, about a year, now! I'm working in their medical technology division here in New York. What about you? I thought you worked for the government, with the Avengers and all that."

"I'm not employed by SI, but a lot of SI's medical technology goes through some testing at the Avengers Compound. Tony was kind enough to invite me."

Aleki laughed. "Tony, eh? He's still Mr Stark to me. Only met him once. Charming guy, though. I'm hoping to see him tonight beyond his little dinner speech; the wife wants to meet him. Oh, I'll have to introduce you to her some time tonight! She would love to meet you."

"Bring her over when you can." She gestured to Maria, who looked as if she was about to slip away. "Oh, not so fast, Maria!"

"I didn't want to intrude," Maria said with a smile.

"Not at all! Aleki, this is Maria Hill. She works for both SI's global security and with the Avengers as something of a government liaison. Maria, this is Dr Aleki Hauata. We were in undergrad together here in the States and have kept in touch over the years. He even visited the U-GIN facility twice."

"You say that like visiting South Korea is a chore," he scoffed. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Ms Hill. I didn't mean to interrupt anything important."

Maria shrugged, smiling. "I mean, we were talking about ways to allow pets in the Avengers Compound."

"Oh? Now this seems interesting!"

The conversation on pets began anew, and Stephen abandoned the conversation. He liked animals about as much as the average person, but he had only so much time to learn more about what SI employees thought about Tony Stark, though he admitted to himself that learning of the others that worked and resided within the Avengers Compound could also be useful.

After listening to a few more conversations, he found another employee of the Avengers: a Doctor Erik Selvig who was in a very animated conversation about physics with an Abe Klein. The conversation quickly went beyond Stephen's basic understanding of physics and he moved on from the collection of loosely gathered circles to the tables.

After eavesdropping on a few of the tables, Stephen found a very interesting scene at one of them: a young man who looked no older than twenty (if that, but surely Stark Industries wouldn't hire someone any younger) sitting stiffly in an untailored suit, looking a little lost as he sat alone at his table. There was a purse on the table beside him, so maybe he wasn't an employee but an employee's son? That made more sense.

However, something about him looked familiar, which made Stephen pause. The young man didn't do much for about a minute, but then looked around before pulling something out of his pocket. Stephen flew in closer; it was… something. If he had to put a name to it, it looked like part of a wristguard. The young man also had a small handy kit and was unscrewing it to open it up.

Well, so much for the 'son of an employee' theory. This one was an engineering type.

"Peter!"

The young man looked up as a woman with long brown hair and glasses, wearing a tight navy blue dress that complimented her figure well, called to him from several feet away. He pocketed all items before she reached the table.

"Peter, what are you doing, sitting here all alone? You should be mingling! Those are your _coworkers_ , Peter!"

"Uh, not really, May." He fidgeted. "I mean, I'd probably recognize a couple, but there's like, a thousand people here. Our department had a smaller Christmas party anyway, so I'm not quite sure what I'm doing here."

"Oh, you know exactly why you're here, Peter," May—whoever she was to him—said as she sat down in the seat beside him. "I've been talking with a lot of people and there are a lot of supervisors who really like the idea of a work-study program while you're in college. You can continue working for SI and go to school at the same time—they have branches in so many major cities. The ones who know of you know your potential."

It was then that Stephen realized exactly who he was looking at: it was the teenager from Tony's photo in the kitchen. The kid—Peter—was a couple years older now, but clearly still young from what this May was saying.

He missed the first part of Peter's reply to her, only focusing on their conversation again as he said, "... not enough time to do it."

May shook her head. "You need to think about your future, Pete. You're going to college next year. You have a prestigious company that's interested in you _now_. You have a great opportunity here. Your… other things may need to be put to the side."

"I don't know, May."

Whatever May was about to say was interrupted by a couple coming back to their table. As the conversation turned into casual small talk between the four (though Peter the intern largely fell silent), Stephen left them. He wondered if there were other interns at this party; so far he hadn't seen anyone else that looked that young.

As interesting as that diversion was, he had a goal here this evening, and went back to seeking out conversations specifically centered around Tony Stark (or, alternatively, Pepper Potts). It was nearing the third hour of the party and people were well and truly relaxed, tipsy, or even drunk; this was the time for unguarded, loose lips.

He flitted from conversation to conversation; most of the conversations were off-topic entirely to work, and those that focused on Stark Industries contained gossip for specific departments rather than the founder's son. It took some time before he heard small bits about Tony Stark from half a dozen conversations. Four of those centered around his connection with Pepper Potts, and the general awfulness of the situation (as well as discussion about her health and whether or not she would be permanently replaced by the interim CEO). Another was a man complaining about a change Tony was campaigning for in terms of more funding for the medical branch's R&D, which would mean some cuts into the consumer products department for the next two quarters. The last was talking about several Iron Man YouTube compilations.

This continued to be the trend for the next hour. Whenever Tony's name came up in conversation, there was awe, sympathy, anger, annoyance, and a whole bag of mixed opinions.

But there was no fear from the employees of Stark Industries. And seeing that unclenched something within Stephen's core, making it easier to breathe.

But for all of his spying amongst hundreds of people, Stephen hadn't actually found Tony himself. He decided to speed beyond the normal flow of time around the now-mute world and nearly still bodies to save him some real world time. He was satisfied with the information he now had.

Eventually Stephen found him. In the older publicity clips he found of Tony on YouTube several months ago, Tony seemed to enjoy being the star of the show and having a large crowd around him. Now, however, he had managed to sequester himself out of line of sight near the stage, where the bright lights shining on the band made him nearly invisible in the dark at the edge of the spotlights.

The closeness of the music would also make it very difficult for anyone to overhear his conversations, Stephen thought wryly. At the moment he was talking with two middle-aged women that, despite their formal party wear, had a professional air about them.

He brought himself back to the normal flow of time as one of the women, the shorter woman with tawny brown skin and her black hair swept in a sleek updo, was speaking. "...hope to hear more good news soon, Tony. Pepper is sorely missed." She spoke with a hint of a French accent.

Tony offered the sort of smile you give to the camera for publicists: practiced and on the surface only. "Thank you, Yvette. You've been doing a superb job as interim CEO—maybe even a _little_ better than I was."

"Very humble of you, Tony," said the other woman, who had her beach-blonde hair trimmed very short and kept her arms loosely crossed as she listened.

"I'm the epitome of humility, Dr Sondheim," Tony quipped back.

"It's Erica outside the office and you know it."

Yvette gave Erica a knowing look, then offered Tony a kind smile. "You took up the reins after the incident with a fortitude that can only be admired. But everyone on the board understands that you also have your duty to the Avengers."

"I think I could've continued doing both," Tony shrugged, then added, "but I know when I've been outvoted. And really," he paused to clear his throat, "Pepper couldn't have asked for better to handle her company than you."

Yvette inclined her head. "It's my pleasure. I love Stark Industries. But I'm also eager to give her back the position when she's ready." The band just then ended their song, and she gestured to the floor. "I promised Abe that I'd dance with him tonight. I better go find him."

"Yeah, have fun," Tony said. Erica mirrored his sentiment, and the interim CEO of SI left the two in the dark corner.

Tony raised a brow at Erica. "I'm not sure you want to stay in this corner with me alone, Erica. You know my reputation—your boyfriend could get the wrong idea."

Erica ignored the bait. "You've been ignoring my calls."

"I assure you it's completely unintentional. I'm just a very busy man, you know. Doing hero stuff alongside the board director-y business stuff. Also been hopping around departments to make sure nothing with my name attached to it is awful. You should have seen what the Consumer Products division was trying to push through to production a few weeks ago."

"Has there been any improvement, Tony?"

"Oh yeah, I gave the Head of Consumer Products a real long talk—"

"Stop playing stupid. Has there been any change in Pepper's condition?"

Tony glanced to the side, avoiding Erica's stern look. "Like I said, she had visible improvement over the summer especially. She's at a six on the GCS."

"She's been there for four months, Tony." Erica's stern look faded into one of sympathy. "Look, the board has decided to let it go for one more quarter. But if Pepper isn't back to consciousness by the end of the first quarter, the rest of us are prepared to let Ms Avril take the role permanently."

Tony pressed his lips into an angry thin line. "You can't give up on Pepper like that."

"I want her to be better too, Tony, believe me. I consider Pepper a friend. But as a board member I also have to consider the future of SI. _We_ have to consider the future of SI."

"The future of SI is nothing without Pepper," was Tony's answer, soft but furious, and he stormed off before Erica could get another word in.

Stephen exhaled softly and didn't bother following him. While that had been informative, a small part of him wasn't sure if he was any better for having knowledge of this battle within Stark Industries' board of directors—and he really wasn't sure if it was his place to see the depths of Tony's pain. An unwelcome pang of guilt hit at that thought.

He left the party after that for the long trek back to the Compound.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of end notes for this chapter:
> 
> For the individual regulations discussed here about the Accords, you can read them yourself [in the Wiki](https://marvelcinematicuniverse.fandom.com/wiki/Sokovia_Accords). Or for how they specifically relate to US law, I have a meta [breaking down the specific mandates](https://aelaer.tumblr.com/post/635991591079788544/i-am-totally-cooking-you-up-in-this-ask-on-how), if that's more your jam.
> 
> Some quick explanations for non-Americans regarding the political mumbo jumbo:  
> \--The ACLU is the American Civil Liberties Union, a powerful nonprofit organization founded 100 years ago to help defend American civil liberties. A large part of this is through challenging law that they believe unconstitutional through the court systems across the country.  
> \--Thaddeus Ross is the Secretary of State, which means he leads the State Department (which handles foreign affairs). He'd have to work with the Justice Department, which handles national law enforcement and the administration of justice, in terms of seeing the laws presumably passed by the US legislature (that mirrored what was put in the Sokovia Accords, for the sake of this fic). But there would be many moving parts and likely dissenting states, counties, and cities/districts that refused to reinforce the law, and of course the court cases. It would have been a magnificent mess.
> 
> The canon timeline between the Washington Monument accident, the ferry incident, the jet incident, and the invite to the Avengers is believed to be 13 days by people who study the most likely dates (the wonderful nerds on the MCU wiki) so uh, a lot happened. Honestly, all the plot holes in Homecoming in regards to the Accords and the greater outside world were super annoying and I tried to amend/explain some of that here.
> 
> I personally don't agree with Tony in bringing a minor to a conflict as he did, but I definitely think Tony would have believed he was doing it in Peter's best interests and for a long-term play, which is what I tried to express here. I also don't think Tony's perfect and can make mistakes, like not reading all the hundreds of pages of the Accords before signing because he was motivated by an extreme amount of guilt. (I've heard other theories as to why he'd sign even if he did get FRIDAY to find all problematic spots, but I think I prefer the idea that he didn't do that here, not until after everything started blowing up—I am a bit uncomfortable with him signing something that says "held indefinitely with no trial" as opposed to just skimming it and missing that one line. Other's interpretations may vary.)
> 
> I have no idea how much time can slow in the astral dimension. The speed I chose is based on the Ancient One's death scene, since it's clear time in that dimension can be manipulated compared to the real world (what with his fight in the astral realm being in real time). So I went with the astral realm moving with the average speed of sound. I also have no idea how fast Stephen can move in his astral form and chose an arbitrary number (~50 mph) that was fast for a human body but like, not Superman fast.
> 
> I pulled a lot of names from Stark Industries' Wiki page for comic book employees, but also invented a few for a bit more diversity on the employee front. I didn't look up their appearances though so those are all invented.
> 
> I like to think as part of Peter's cover of an internship program with Spider-Man, he actually had some time at S.I. to do an actual internship to show for his college applications, and more witnesses to say that he actually interned there. Just seems like the best way to support his cover story.
> 
> Finally, in the Captain Marvel Prelude comic, Maria Hill was (seemingly, though it's ambiguous) fired from her position at the Avengers facility some months before the snap, but in this world I believe that Pepper was attacked before that scene happened, and so she's still working at the Avengers Compound, which works closely with a lot of Stark Industries stuff, despite it being officially a government-owned facility after some version of the Accords was passed through American legislature in 2016 (as it presumably was, to make it in any way effective in American law). And I figured her "disappearing" for a bit in 2016 with Nick Fury didn't ultimately affect her position at the Compound, since there were a lot of things in disarray then. Erik Selvig was also revealed to be working there in the same comic, though his fate past 2016's Civil War isn't explored. So I kept him along.


	7. The Truth is Waiting

Stephen decided to keep his exploration of the Christmas party to himself. Tony didn't need to know about the lingering doubt that had remained and only dissipated last night. He _really_ didn't want to know how Tony would react if he knew Stephen had seen him so emotionally compromised, either.

Tony came back to the Compound that next day, Sunday, in the early afternoon. Stephen didn't even need to look up; his step was distinct from Rhodey's assisted walking and Vision's very light step (when he chose to walk at all).

"Afternoon," Stephen said. Setting a trigger mechanism on a dormant spell was still proving to be a problem. If he didn't get it soon with both the London Sanctum research and what books Wong had on hand, he might need to ask Vision to do another Sanctum library run. Vision didn't seem to mind the first run, at the least.

"Yeah, hey," Tony said half-distractedly. He went over to his main desk, where he started rummaging about for parts in an expansive drawer beside the computer.

Stephen looked up from his book. "All's well?"

"Hmm? Oh, yeah." Tony looked up from the drawer, carrying something that looked like some sort of small containment box and a screwdriver. "Who the hell still says, 'All's well'?"

"English speakers," he retorted with a soft eye roll. He looked back down at his book to leave Tony to his thoughts. He figured Tony was likely still thinking about the news from the Christmas party, and he had no plans on saying _anything_ about said party unless Tony brought it up. Less likely he'd slip that way.

Tony smirked. "Ye Olde English, maybe," he retorted. He started unscrewing the back of the container and fell silent then, concentrating on whatever it was that he was working on.

Stephen rolled his eyes and left him to it; he had his own work to focus upon. He made a face at the book in front of him. Perhaps there was something within this specific ward magic's triggering mechanism that he could apply to a spell to make it dormant until triggered?

They worked in easy silence then, each man busy on their own project without the need for conversation to fill the space. It was… nice in a way that Stephen couldn't quite quantify with words. Still, it allowed Stephen the much-needed time to explore another avenue of research with the damnably frustrating spell.

Some time later, he felt more than heard another presence in the room by the sheer feeling of raw power. He looked up to see Vision. "Vision, how are you? I hope you are feeling better?" While he knew that the lesser spawn of Shuma-Gorath, the lord of the Chaos Dimension, were powerful creatures despite being "lesser", he was not expecting the creature to take out a powerful being like Vision so readily.

"I am much better, thank you, Doctor," Vision said, with all the feeling and grace he usually carried in his words. "I came to visit you last night, but you were already asleep."

On the astral plane rather than exactly asleep, but again, not something they needed to know. "I may have been sleeping off the last of the weariness from the spell I performed to close the breach," he explained.

"I suppose that would explain why your presence seemed so faint," Vision mused. Stephen purposefully kept his eyes on the android rather than glance at Tony to see if he was suspicious of anything. It was curious how Vision seemed to be able to detect astral forms as well as their lack of presence. Was that due to the Infinity Stone? He would have to consult with Wong later. "You seem fully hale today," Vision continued.

"There's only room for one Shakespeare in the Compound, Vision, and Stephen already grabbed the role," Tony chimed in from his desk.

"Is 'stop being such a douchebag' modern enough for you?" Stephen snarked back, raising his brow at Tony.

"Ooh, well done, Merlin. I didn't know you had it in you!"

Stephen slowly exhaled and reminded himself he generally _liked_ Tony Stark.

Vision offered a slight smile and lowered his voice. "From knowing Tony for over three years now, I believe that is his unique way of communicating friendship."

He gave Tony a side-eyed look before looking back at the android. "Yeah. I believe you're right."

Vision's smile grew a little wider before he sobered. "I was hoping," he started, "that you wouldn't mind if I observed you during your studies. I regret that I missed half of the fight, but what little I remember is that your order put on a magnificent showing unlike anything I have ever seen."

Stephen blinked in surprise. "Ah, yeah, sure. I'm afraid there's little magic from me at the moment, though; I am reading through spell theory so I can figure out how to manipulate this tracking spell to do what I want."

"What is it you need it to do, other than track?" Vision sat down on the nearby sofa.

"Stay inactive for an indefinite amount of time until it detects a portal, and only then it should release itself. With a basic tracking spell it attaches itself to a person or object immediately. I _have_ succeeded in elongating the amount of time the tracking is active, but the most difficult part will be having it remain untriggered until it comes upon a specific magic."

"Fascinating." Vision seemed quite earnest about his comment rather than just being polite, as well. "And that is why you are here every day now, I presume, so you may work directly with the sensor we keep in the workshop."

Stephen blinked at the question, then his brow furrowed. He glanced sidelong at Tony, who was still working with the screwdriver, though the item he was working on had changed. Stephen didn't even have a name for whatever that bit of metal was supposed to be. "Ah… it will come to that, soon. After Wong set the wards around the workshop, I suppose we thought it safer that I do my work here. His wards tend to be stronger than mine. I can always study elsewhere if I am overstaying my welcome, though," he added, a seed of doubt suddenly coming to him. He may have been a wee bit too heavy with that last retort at Tony, possibly.

Vision said, "Not at all," even as Tony said, "Don't be stupid." They looked at each other.

"I was not meaning to imply that you were unwelcome," Vision added.

"He'd say it to your face if he thought that," Tony piped in. "Though, it is a bit funny—remember what you said at our first meeting after you escaped here, back at the lake in October, when I asked how often you thought we'd be meeting up for reconnaissance?"

Stephen's brow furrowed. He had a very good memory, but that was not one detail he had bothered to store. "I can't say I do."

"You said once or twice a month. I gotta say, Doc, your estimate feels just a little bit off."

Stephen shrugged and told him the truth. "I didn't expect you to recalibrate your sensors to track portal magic in under a month. I also was not considering that I'd need to research the technology and coordinate with you upon it with as much frequency as we have." He paused, then added a bit more softly, hoping he masked his uncertainty, "I certainly didn't think you'd invite me to stay here full-time."

Tony looked back to his screwdriver. When he answered a moment later, his voice held an unusual tone within it that Stephen was not quite sure how to identify. "I built a tower for everyone in the Avengers to all stay together in. It just—didn't quite happen the way I thought it would."

Stephen wasn't sure what to say to that and so didn't say anything at all. The conversation eventually died, only picking up a few minutes later when Vision asked him about the specific ward the book he was reading was talking about. That's when Stephen realized that Vision could read Ancient Sanskrit, and he spent the next few minutes explaining the very basics of how the wards worked while remaining intentionally vague.

Sometime later that afternoon, Stephen had gotten the go-ahead from Wong to discuss magical theory with Vision when he proved to be very apt in reading every page that Stephen flipped to, no matter that he was hovering several feet away. The sorcerer spent a chunk of time pointing out the flaws within Vision's many suggestions; while the suggestions themselves were flawed due to Vision's lack of study, they were spurring ideas in Stephen's head that he was keeping a mental note on, to try later. On occasion, Tony threw in his own idea, especially when it came to anything related to the transfer of energy.

It was during one of these discussions that Rhodey came quietly in.

"Hey Platypus," Tony said. Stephen glanced away from Vision and saw Rhodey had opened the basement door. Tony continued, "I'm not sure if this permanent roommate business is going to work out, with this bullshit of turning off the music so he can 'concentrate'. Rude, right?"

"That was yesterday morning!" Stephen said with a snort. "Go ahead and turn it on now if you'd like."

"Yeah, but I'm busy complaining about yesterday."

Rhodey, however, remained silent. Stephen broke his brief eye contact with Tony as they both turned to look at the colonel. The expression on his face caused Stephen's heart to skip a beat and in the corner of his eye, he saw Tony stiffen.

"Strange made a move," said Rhodey.

"What happened?" Tony asked. Stephen, in turn, held very still as he listened.

Rhodey pressed his lips together into a thin line. "This hasn't been released to the media, and likely won't, but Strange struck a German power plant, probably to steal more uranium. All countries, to my knowledge, now have armed guards around the reactor sites. I guess Strange wasn't expecting this. They managed to fend him off and kept him from stealing anything. They possibly even wounded him, though that's hearsay. However, in the fight he killed two of the guards before he retreated."

Tony exhaled. "Well, at least he didn't succeed in getting anymore uranium."

Stephen barely processed Tony's relief as he realized what his counterpart had done. Strange had killed two people, two guards or soldiers, maybe, protecting something that was theirs to keep, theirs to defend. And Strange had _killed_ them. There was no way he could claim this was an accident like all the other deaths.

Strange wasn't relenting; if anything, he was getting worse. How much further would he go? What means would he use to justify his so-called noble intentions of "protecting reality"?

Rhodey's voice broke him away from his spiraling thoughts. "You look like you could use a drink," he said.

A broken, low laugh that held no amusement passed Stephen's lips. "You could say that," he muttered. He looked away from them. Perhaps he should leave, leave until this heavy feeling that was growing over his chest dissipated.

Before that thought could get much further, however, he felt a hand on his shoulder. Startled, he looked up only to catch Tony's equally quizzical and concerned look. "What's up, Stephen?"

"I—" Stephen broke himself off and avoided their gazes as he collected his thoughts; how could he say this without sounding like a complete fool? He wanted to brush it off, push them aside and find some solitude, but Tony's hand was still on his shoulder, Vision stood to his other side, and behind him some feet away he could feel Rhodey's gaze. He was enclosed.

Oddly enough, though, it did not feel overly cloying as was expected. He looked up; there was no pity in the gazes surrounding him, just a soft concern that came naturally with friends. _Friends_. That was a thought. Even then—something deep inside Stephen balked at the idea of being so vulnerable, even if they only meant the best.

But then he remembered Tony's private conversation that he eavesdropped upon last night and that gnawed at him again. He exhaled; one vulnerable moment for another. Perhaps it was the universe's way of making him pay penance for his hubris.

Still, Stephen couldn't quite meet their gazes and looked down and away as he admitted reluctantly, lowly, "A small, ridiculous part of me hoped that, with the lack of activity in almost two months, Strange had considered some of my words and had… I don't know, perhaps remembered why he became a doctor in the first place. Remembered his humanity." He shook his head. "Stupid, I know."

Vision canted his head thoughtfully. "Believing the best of people, no matter their crimes, is not what I would call stupid, Doctor Strange. Hope in the prevalence of humanity's good is what has allowed humanity to persevere in the face of great animosity throughout history."

"Vision's always right, so don't bother arguing," Tony added, causing Stephen to unexpectedly huff in amusement.

But he quickly sobered and shook his head. "Stupid or hopeful, it was naive of me," he replied. "It's simply difficult to imagine what could have caused such a shift in my personality." He let some of his frustration leak into his next words. "I have been _searching_ as long as I've been here for differences in our pasts, and there have been no major differences to account for it. There's nothing to be found."

Rhodey and Tony exchanged a glance and seemed to have a silent conversation. "I have a bit of information I gathered on your doppelganger while first trying to find him," said Tony.

Rhodey snorted. " _A bit_. That's a word for it."

"Maybe more than a bit."

"Way more than a bit."

"Anyway," Tony continued, "I don't see why you can't search through what I gathered about Strange's past, though I can't guarantee you'll find anything useful."

Hope shot through his system, though he hid his emotions with a neutral nod. "I appreciate the offer and I'll happily take advantage of it. I'm at a dead end and I would like to figure out what could have caused the differences between our personalities, if at all possible."

"Sure thing. FRIDAY, send all data we found on this reality's Stephen Strange to Stephen's tablet."

"Yes, boss," the AI chirped. "The file transfer should be complete in about two minutes."

"Two minutes?" Stephen asked, raising an eyebrow. "Just how much data did you find?"

"A bit," Tony repeated.

"It was something of an obsession during the summer," Vision chimed in. Tony shot him a look, and the android tilted his head. "Or is that an inaccurate statement?"

Rhodey snorted. "No, no, it's a very accurate statement, Vision."

Tony made a face. He left Stephen then, going back to his computer and whatever project he was currently working on. Stephen, in the meantime, picked up the tablet and woke it up as he asked Rhodey, "Was there any other movement from Strange?"

The colonel shook his head. "Nothing else that came down the pipeline. I'm trying to get some verification on this rumor of him being wounded, but he was apparently still wearing his shadow disguise thing, so even someone there might not be a hundred percent certain whether they hit him or not."

Stephen's brow furrowed. "If they did, that might slow him down. We may not see anything further from him until he is recovered."

Rhodey crossed his arms. "And what does magic do for wound care, anyway? How much downtime can we expect?"

"It depends on the nature of the wound. He's still human, but magic can accelerate healing in certain aspects. In others, it takes time. If we're lucky, he was wounded by his own magic." The tablet beeped as the transfer of files completed. Stephen looked down at it and brought a hand up to maneuver across the screen. "That would buy us the most time, and I have more confidence I'll have a tracking spell ready when he's active again."

"Damned pity we only have fifteen of those trackers. If we had a couple hundred, we could put them in every nuclear plant around the globe."

"I wouldn't have been able to safely get into any of the sites," Stephen reminded him. He slightly frowned as he looked through all of the folders on the first level of the transferred files. Did that seriously read 'School Years'? He clicked it open.

"I may have been able to," Vision murmured. "You did mention my ability to disguise myself when we first met, Doctor."

Stephen nodded, but it was a distracted one. When he spoke again, it was directed at Tony. "This," he said as really took in the amount of data Tony had on his counterpart, "is both very impressive and incredibly disturbing."

"Yeah," Tony answered from his computer with a knowing smirk. "To be entirely fair, that is largely because your other self is so damn elusive. I was looking for any sort of lead to his whereabouts for months."

"I think gathering the names of all my elementary school classmates through the years was going a bit overboard," Stephen remarked as he frowned at a picture of his second-grade class. Taught by a Mrs. Porter, apparently; he had no idea if that was the same in his universe because he had forgotten most of his elementary school teachers.

Tony typed in something on his computer. "Elementary school folder? Did you both go to the same school?"

Stephen saw Rhodey making a retreat in the corner of his eye; in contrast, Vision only stepped in closer, hovering over his shoulder. His instinctive reaction was annoyance, but he quickly realized how stupid that was: Tony was collecting information on _Strange_. That he and his doppelganger just seemed to have nearly identical pasts was the fault of no one present. That it also meant it was a deep breach of his own privacy was just—something he had to come to terms with. What was done was done.

He broke himself out of his thoughts to focus on the school information the tablet provided to answer Tony's question. He shot a wry glance at the mascot, a rather ruddy-faced caricature of an American Indian, sitting beside the name of the school. "Oh yeah. This is definitely the same school."

"Before you two dive too deeply down that rabbit hole," Rhodey interjected, "I'm also here to remind you, Tones, that I have that end of the year meeting two days from now for the Avengers with the feds."

Tony rolled his eyes. "How can I forget. I'm just glad they're not coming here."

"No one wants to make a flight they can otherwise avoid," Rhodey said. "I have some last minute paperwork I need to finish for it, though. Make sure your stuff is done; I'm double checking it tomorrow, and you know I'll pull you away from your suit if I need you."

"No fun."

"Hey, I got you out from needing to come with me, so that's the least you can do for me." Rhodey smirked, then looked at Vision. "Vision, I need some help filling in some of your blanks and some parts from your transponder that don't make any sense, so come on."

Vision acquiesced, stepping away from Stephen's shoulder. "I hope your search proves fruitful," he said, his sincerity causing the sorcerer to look up at him in faint surprise. Vision slightly smiled and added, "I believe you will find a peace currently missing should you solve your mystery."

"Uh, thanks," he said, for lack of a better answer.

"Have fun with your research," Rhodey called, deadpan, before departing, Vision just behind him.

"I'm sure I'll have a blast," Stephen muttered. He started scanning through all the elementary class photos first.

"I'm going to watch along, if you don't mind," Tony said; Stephen glanced up again and saw that the engineer already had his tablet screen pulled up on the computer monitor. Stephen just grunted in acquiescence, silently repeating what he had just told himself. Besides, it wasn't like Tony hadn't seen any of this before. He continued going through the photos.

"Were you seriously in the same school throughout your entire childhood? I thought public schools were split into two or three different schools."

He swiped over to the fifth grade. "Ah, no. Elementary was in one school. Then middle and high school was in another building about half a mile away. They had the same name, though." Stephen looked up again when he felt Tony's disbelieving look. "The town had less than a thousand people in it. My graduating class was a grand total of 26 kids. Just what were you expecting?"

"It's just… weird. Some might even say—"

"I'm going to stop you right there."

Tony mock-frowned. "Spoilsport."

"I've heard them all, Tony. Besides, you're not exactly one to talk, are you? I imagine you went to some rather prestigious private school."

"Prestigious private _boarding_ school, actually."

Stephen snorted softly. As he made to swipe to the next grade, one of his fingers brushed against the screen and he blinked as a file opened, containing basic biographical information of the child his finger had touched. It even included his current home address and members of his current family. "How the hell is this guy's information relevant at all?" A quick glance revealed nothing important. He touched another to reveal another popup biography file. Then another. "Did you seriously look up _all_ my old childhood classmates?" He clicked on more children; up-to-date biographical information appeared for every one of them.

Tony made a face. "That was done about seven weeks after I figured out Strange's identity, and five weeks after I had scraped together all relevant data from his adulthood. Went back to his childhood to see if I could have missed something."

"And probably broke about a dozen laws in the process," Stephen muttered as he swiped forward to the next year's class picture and the next year's worth of information on all of his classmates from over three decades ago.

"Hey, it's only law-breaking if I use that information for bad purposes," he retorted.

Stephen swiped over through elementary school into middle school. "That's not how the law works."

"Whatever. I'm totally following the spirit of the law."

He easily fell into the banter, finding a bit of an odd joy in it. But he kept his voice deadpan with only a hint of dryness. "I don't see how hacking into whatever databases you hacked into could possibly be following the spirit of these laws." In lieu of classroom photos that no longer happened after elementary school, apparently Tony had just created profiles for every single person in his first year of middle school.

Stephen did not need to look up to know that Tony was making a face at him. "You can create portals into whatever secure building in the world—like your other self actually _did_ , remember—and you're suddenly worried about privacy laws?"

"Not really," he replied evenly, keeping his expression carefully neutral and his eyes on the tablet.

"Not real—oh. You're messing with me."

"I'm messing with you."

A beat of brief silence. "I am incredibly tempted to throw this screwdriver, right here at my desk, right at your head. Right now."

Stephen allowed himself a half-smile as he lifted his eyes from the tablet. Tony was twirling said screwdriver in his right hand. "You can certainly try."

He pointed the screwdriver at him. "Don't tempt me. I've been very curious about the extent of your skills and the amount of sensors I have in this room would be perfect to capture all that data. The portal data has been great, don't get me wrong, but ever since we fought Baby Cthulhu I've been dying to take a closer look at your other abilities."

His half-smile widened into a smirk. "Oh, I don't know if I want to make it _that_ easy for you." Stephen flicked the screen to his high school graduating class, all 26 of them. "I didn't keep in touch with anyone from high school. I doubt Strange did, either."

Tony glanced back at his monitor. "Nothing came up to suggest it; I figured the same. But like I said, I was looking for leads anywhere at that point, no matter the improbability." He paused a moment. "You know, I thought my boarding school was bad, but I think your high school wins the award for the least amount of diversity in a graduating class."

Stephen snorted loudly. "It was Nowhere, Nebraska in the 1990s. What exactly were you expecting?"

"Something that looks less like the cast of a 1950s sitcom," he easily retorted.

He huffed. "You'd need to go to cities to get that, back in the '90s in most of the Midwest. I didn't see a diverse population regularly until college."

"Seriously?"

Stephen flicked the screen to the next slide, which started getting into the nitty-gritty details of everything Tony was able to find on him regarding personal events before he went to college. Everything documenting his childhood was here. "Yeah. Hell, I think the first African-American I saw outside of TV was in Sioux Falls, which was the closest major city to our farm. Maybe when I was nine or ten. I don't think I saw anyone from Eastern Asia until I was fifteen and we went to the tourist trap of Mount Rushmore."

Tony's brows were raised high. " _Seriously_?" he repeated.

"Have you been to Nebraska? It's known for corn, Tony. _Corn. Nobody_ moves to Nebraska because _nothing_ happens in Nebraska."

Tony paused and looked thoughtful. "You know, after… after all this, a place where nothing happens sounds… nice. Not a bad place to retire to, a place where nothing happens." He paused, then added, "So long as the WiFi and cell service are good."

"I have no idea about that," Stephen admitted. "The last time I was in Nebraska was well over a decade ago."

"Ah, yeah—your doppelganger's the same."

Stephen made a face at that tidbit. He looked back down at the screen, which had scans of his physical report cards from the early '90s. Where on Earth had Tony found _those_? "I don't think you want to move to Nebraska. There are nicer places in the country that are still secluded."

Tony's brow furrowed in contemplation. "That place we met up at, further upstate. You know, by the lake? That place is nice."

"That is a nice place."

"Any idea if it's private or public land?"

Stephen shrugged. "I was just looking for some place that was secluded and within flying distance from the Compound. I don't know who owns it."

"A place like that might be a nice place to retire. Within both driving and flying distance to New York City, but far enough to get away from other people."

He hummed in acknowledgement, then glanced up to look again at Tony; the other man had a faraway look on his face. "Do you know when you will?"

"When I will what?"

"Retire."

Tony glanced away. "Assuming I live that long, hopefully within the next few years. Depends on how everything unfolds."

Again, Stephen hummed in acknowledgement. What more could he say to that? Their job was a dangerous one, and the world was incredibly unpredictable. Stephen himself wasn't sure if retirement was really an option in his books. It's not like he had anybody or anything waiting for him in retirement, anyway.

They fell into silence once more as Stephen went through his childhood and Tony split his time tinkering with a motor and watching his mirror of Stephen's screen. Eventually though, Tony said, "Hey." Stephen looked up; the other man was looking sidelong at him, fiddling with the motor in his hands. "I've been meaning to ask you something. You said a while back that when you saw me in the suit, you knew you were in a different universe. Is your world's Tony Stark not Iron Man?"

Stephen paused, then nodded. "Correct. He's still primarily a weapons manufacturer." He kept his tone carefully neutral.

Tony, however, seemed to realize that he wasn't saying everything and frowned softly. "And?"

"And what?"

"You hesitated. What else is there?"

Stephen caught Tony narrowing his eyes at him as he turned away to consider his words. It did not take him long to decide that Tony would appreciate the whole truth, no matter that it was not pleasant. "Unfortunately the Tony Stark in my reality lacks your scruples."

Tony frowned. "What is he doing? Dealing under the table to terrorist organizations?"

"I'm not entirely sure," Stephen admitted. "He wasn't on our immediate radar, having no otherworldly connections of any kind. However, he was suspected by my order of being behind several high-profile murders, though the world governments seemed happy to turn a blind eye. We were primarily watching him just in case his resources turned him towards the occult."

Tony looked away from him as he listened, and was still looking at a far wall when he replied lowly, "Yeah. I guess I could see that."

He wasn't sure what to say in turn; having someone who was essentially _you_ doing awful things was not reassuring in any form. Stephen himself still felt stirrings of doubt at Wong's reassurances about he and Strange being two entirely different people, no matter that they shared the same DNA and almost nearly the same life story.

Well, if there was anything that would lead him to discover what pushed Strange off the deep end, it would surely be somewhere here. And so he turned his attention again to all the data Tony collected on his childhood, hoping that this terrible, nagging question would finally be answered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shuma-Gorath is, of course, a comic book reference. He is the lord of the Chaos Dimension and a lot of the weird stuff that Baby Cthulhu could do in Chapter 3 was inspired by Shuma-Gorath (like his association with the "many-angled ones").
> 
> I had an absolute blast going through Nebraska schools to find a rural school. And I found one that Stephen definitely went to, because it was just… so rural. As someone born and raised in California that had a very diverse high school graduating class of over 600 students, it's also completely foreign to me. Also, my middle school mascot was an 'Indian' so there was no way I *wasn't* using that Nebraska school for Stephen. To top it all off, their current website is so spectacularly bad (I do web stuff for a living. It *called* to me).
> 
> The 'never seen an Asian' line is inspired by the demographic distributions of Nebraska in the 1980s and 1990s as well as a personal anecdote. My best friend grew up in Minnesota, which has very similar racial demographics as Nebraska. My best friend also happens to be ethnically Chinese. She has told me stories of the extreme lack of diversity when she was growing up lol.
> 
> (Just so it's clear: I love everyone and I am in no way making fun of the Midwest or its wonderful residents. It is a bit of a culture shock for me, though!)


	8. The Answer Isn't Where You Think You'd Find It

The next day, to Tony's frustration, Stephen refused to look at the files collected regarding his doppelganger's life.

"Why not?" he asked. "You said it yourself: you've been searching as long as you've been here for anything you could find on Strange. And now, tada! You have all the information you can possibly have, because if the record existed, I found it. And now that you have the information, you're _ignoring_ it?"

"It's not that I don't plan on looking through the records," Stephen answered. "But the fact is that I wasted too much time on that indulgence yesterday when I should have been progressing further on the tracking spell. Getting that finished is my number one priority, and my own curiosity needs to take a back seat."

Sure, yeah, that _was_ important. But at this point of time, Tony _really_ wanted to know what the differences between them were. Stephen's personality was so _different_. What had caused that? What made Stephen generally good and—well, what made him trustworthy? Tony once had full faith in his intuition of what made a person trustworthy, an intuition that had him attaching himself to Rhodey, then Pepper, then Happy. But ever since Obidiah Stane's betrayal, he'd been suspicious of his intuition, and 2016 didn't help one fucking bit in helping build back up his faith. So having some sort of evidence that showed why Stephen was decent and why Strange was just awful would give his intuition some much-needed backup.

With that in mind, he tried another tactic. "Fine," said Tony. "Tomorrow, then."

"I literally just said—"

"This is important in its own way. What was it that Vision said? Peace of mind and all that? It sounds like a good idea to me, you having a peaceful mind. Don't want you to accidentally blow up something from anger."

"That's not how it works."

"Okay, but still."

Stephen gave Tony a long look. "I _know_ you're just as invested as I am in finding Strange. Why are you insisting on this diversion?"

"Like I just said, peace of mind and all that shit."

"Really." Stephen narrowed his eyes at him.

Curveball time. Tony crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes back at him. "Yeah, really. I don't need you distracted by this issue. It'll eat at you because I saw that look on your face yesterday. You were _loathing_ yourself for not catching Strange before he struck again and hurt others." Stephen pressed his lips into a thin line and Tony quickly continued before the man could retreat. "I know it because I've felt the same thing time and again. What if I could have been faster, what if I could have been smarter, what if I had just done this instead of that. What if, what if, what if."

Stephen remained still for a moment, his expression blank, before he slowly exhaled and looked away. "Fine. I can look further into our shared history tomorrow. Maybe for an hour or two."

Tony personally saw this as a win in his favor.

After that, he left him be. Stephen worked on his tracking spell thing while Tony bounced around projects: Sensors 2.0, the newest Spider-Man suit, and the Mark LII. The Mark LII was the third version of the nanotech suit; Mark L, the first version using nanotechnology, was completed early that year, but he immediately saw the need for upgrades after Strange's attack at SI's research labs. Mark LI was useful in gathering data about the magic Strange used during his fight, but still not adequate in combating him and all his tricks. Thus, Mark LII.

He figured he could, at some point, pick Stephen's brain about more of his powers. He got a lot of data during the fight with Baby Cthulhu, but none of those sorcerers had made the air look like shattered glass to disappear behind like Strange had done to escape from their fight in Sokovia. That was something he would love to figure out at some point. But throughout the day Stephen looked like he was in a serious 'do not disturb' zone and Tony very much understood that. Besides, he already got a victory in getting Stephen to look at his history tomorrow, so he put those questions on the back burner for now.

As Tony worked on the Mark LII, he couldn't help but consider Stephen's opinion about it. He wasn't entirely sure how he would react to his armor having anti-magic properties built into it. Hell, he still hadn't gotten around to asking him to test the cuffs, though he figured that Wong was right in that Stephen had to be the one to test them to really see how effective they were.

His thoughts eventually went back to his creations, and the rest of the day passed without much else, other than Rhodey coming in and barking at both of them to eat something (with a claim that they were both as bad as the other, but that was just ridiculous). Stephen, in turn, went to some town in Guatemala and brought back _tacos chapines_ and they were absolutely delicious. Best thing about magic was its connection to delicious food all over the world, bar none, in Tony's opinion.

That night, when Rhodey pressed for them to stop because, "This is the last time I can make sure neither of you do an all-nighter for a couple days," Stephen took the couch again ("I can bring down an inflatable mattress, really," Rhodey said. "The couch is comfortable," said Stephen, and Rhodey didn't bother pressing) and Tony went upstairs at the insistence of his best friend. "I'll be headed to Washington tomorrow for end of the year reports," he reminded Tony. "If anything comes up, call me. I'll be free before noon and after four, if not sooner."

"If Strange does end up showing up, Stephen just wants to attempt to put a tracking spell on him. He doesn't want to confront him in a public place."

"Is he making any progress on the," Rhodey made a face, "spell he's working on?"

"He seems stuck. He's not happy about it."

"What about the information on Strange? Anything there?"

"Nothing yet, though he didn't look at it today. Convinced him to take a couple hours tomorrow to search more through my data."

Rhodey hummed in acknowledgement. "Well, let me know if he figures anything out. Try to get some sleep, Tony, and don't go back down into the workshop at 2 a.m."

"Duly noted, snugglepuss."

He slept through the night without issue, and got the cooks at the Compound's kitchen (still there for what little personnel remained, but they'd be taking their own Christmas break soon) to whip up some breakfast.

Stephen was already up, reading one of his books and drinking some of the tea from the little kitchenette in the basement. He was also floating in the air as he sat, the Cloak billowing dramatically around him, but at this point that was hardly surprising.

"Morning, Merlin," he greeted.

The sorcerer shot him a long look, but said in turn, "Good morning."

Tony set one of the breakfast plates—eggs, toast, sausages—nearby. "Do you uh, float in the air for any particularly productive reason or just because you think it looks cool?"

Stephen gave him the same long look, but Tony was well used to those and ignored it as he set his own plate down and dug in before he started working and completely forgot about the food's existence. Eventually Stephen descended back into a normal standing position and replied, "It helps when I meditate, but I haven't done proper meditating in a couple days. The Cloak gets a bit antsy then, so I do it more for its benefit."

" _The Cloak_ gets antsy?"

He hummed in confirmation, then sat down in front of his plate. Tony had noticed ages ago that Stephen _hated_ people staring at him while he ate, so he gave him the same courtesy as he always did and looked away, back to his own food. "It likes being with me, but it prefers movement to stillness. It can be still as needed for long lengths of time, such as when I sleep, but in turn I try to give it some sort of activity if we're not particularly active for several days. Usually that's when I meditate, but without active meditation, sitting and reading in the air suits it just the same."

Tony furrowed his brow, then made a face to himself. "Everything about what you just said is so, so weird." That got a soft chuckle from Stephen, which made Tony smile to himself.

After breakfast, he needled Stephen into getting back into the research on Strange. "Rhodey's not here to babysit, so you can stay up all night with the tracking spell thing. But I still want to know if there are any differences between your two lives."

Stephen's narrow-eyed look from yesterday was gone, replaced with simple bemusement. "Why?"

Tony shrugged. "I'm curious. I figure it'd be something significant since you're both so different and—yeah, I just want to know."

He huffed, but he seemed a bit amused by his curiosity. "Sure. You know everything else about my past, so what's a little bit more?" he said dryly. "I'll take a couple hours and look into my time as a doctor. At this point I think it is a more recent event that created the change in my counterpart's personality. The major events of my life I already looked at and they're identical up to 2017, though, so I'm not exactly sure what I'm going to find."

Oh, his data ended in August of 2016, when Strange disappeared from all eyes in Kathmandu. He raised his brows at Stephen. "Really?"

Stephen nodded distractedly; he wasn't even looking at Tony, but was turning on the tablet and getting the folders open once more. "Well, there were a couple changes in the story between my arrival to Kamar-Taj and his, but they were largely inconsequential. His changes really came in after February 2017, once we were both made Master of the New York Sanctum."

Tony narrowed his eyes. "Maybe I'm missing something, but uh, 'Master' is a higher up rank in your group, isn't it?"

The doctor paused in his perusal of the tablet to look up at Tony, brow furrowed in confusion. "Yes. Why do you ask?"

"You were made a Master in only six months?"

He cleared his throat and looked back down at the tablet. "The circumstances were—unusual. Several acolytes who would have been better suited for the job left with Kaecilius, or were killed in London. I was—the only one in position to defend the Sanctum when it was attacked and its Master killed." He looked down at his shoulder, smiling softly. "It's where I met the Cloak, well, my reality's Cloak. Or well, 'met' is a poor word for its actions that day. The Cloak saved my life. Several times, actually. I was very green still."

As Stephen looked down at his magical clothing, Tony took a moment to study Stephen. He knew the guy was smart—that much was obvious to anyone. But he was starting to understand what Wong meant in their conversation after the battle with Baby Cthuhlu. This guy was going places.

So long as they stopped his evil counterpart, at least.

"Well," Tony said a moment later, "Let me know if you find any deviations there, big or small."

"Yeah, sure," was Stephen's somewhat dry response. "You'll be the first to know." With that, they fell into an easy, working silence. It was a camaraderie in the lab that Tony had not felt since Bruce went missing, and despite the circumstances, it was nice in its own way.

Tony had not been working on the Mark LII for even half an hour before Stephen interrupted him. "Tony?"

"Mmm?"

"Are you sure you got every doctor that worked with me here? From the Metro-General?"

At that, he looked up from his holographic screens, where he was altering some of the programming of the suit's nanites when it came to replication. "One hundred percent sure," he answered. "Who's missing?"

"Christine." He cleared his throat. "Doctor Christine Palmer."

Tony picked up his phone and went to his old friend Google. "You're gonna need to be more specific; there's over 20 million results for Christine Palmer."

"Trauma surgeon."

Tony inputted this new set of data and scanned. After a few seconds, he turned on Image Search and stood up to hand his phone over. "She any of these people?"

Stephen put down his tablet to take the phone, and his hand shook a little more than usual as it swiped up once, then twice, then stilled as much as it was physically able. Then he pressed down on the screen, on one of the images. Tony saw him swallow. "Yeah. This is her." His eyes trailed down the screen. "She works in a hospital in Minneapolis. Ten year veteran." He handed the phone back to Tony; his hand was still badly shaking.

Tony really didn't like being handed things, but he'd allow it this once. He took it back with only a bit of hesitation on his end and took a look at this Dr. Palmer. She was pretty in her photo. Obviously smart, being a trauma surgeon. "Who was she to you?"

Stephen wouldn't look him in the eye. "Coworker. My ex. But despite all that, a friend." He laughed lowly, the laugh Tony recognized as being the one he gave before saying something self-deprecating. "Too good to me is what she was. I didn't deserve her."

Tony heard himself in those last words. He pressed his lips tightly together, unsure if anything he could say would make a damn bit of difference. In terms of himself, it certainly wouldn't. So he spared Stephen the platitudes. "She worked at the Metro-General in your reality, then?"

He nodded. "I got along with my surgical team, but she was—really was my only friend there." He sighed. "I gave Christine so much anger and unhappiness. I imagine here she's had a much happier life."

"You can't be sure of that," he retorted, but could see that Stephen wasn't listening to him. Tony frowned. "Earth to Stephen: Christine wouldn't still be your friend if you gave her nothing."

"Don't be so sure of that," Stephen murmured in return, before sighing. "I'll see if any of the other hospital personnel is different. I just finished my surgical team and was only starting on the other departments. Christine's absence is the first major deviation—if you could call it that."

"She's your friend," Tony pointed out. "That counts for something."

Stephen made a noncommittal noise in response, his eyes back on the tablet. Tony eyed him for a moment longer before turning back to his work.

* * *

Stephen didn't find any further discrepancies in his career beyond Christine Palmer's absence, but instead of looking into his college years right there and then, he ended up going back to his research on the tracking spell. Tony didn't press him; even he could see that Stephen was a bit shaken by Christine's absence in his life in this reality.

He didn't have any exes he was still friends with, so he couldn't completely relate, but with the amount of friends Strange seemed to have (i.e. none at all), Tony imagined that Stephen could count the number of his close friends on one hand, making each one count.

They were also the same in that regard. Dammit, Rhodey was totally right: he and Stephen were way too similar.

The day passed on with little change: Stephen remained annoyed at his lack of progress with the tracking spell, and Tony continued to chip away at his projects. They went to bed at what Tony would consider a decent enough time, even if it was after midnight. Dawn wasn't around, so that had to count for something.

The next day, Vision announced that he would be leaving that evening for Christmas break. Stephen had looked at him curiously but said nothing and went back to his research. Tony knew _exactly_ who he was going to see, so didn't press him.

As Vision was leaving the basement, Tony asked him quietly at the doorway, "You still available for emergencies?"

Vision furrowed his brow. "If Strange is found, then yes, I can be."

Tony, in turn, handed him a new phone. "All GPS and tracking apps are turned off. Pinky swear."

Vision gave him a long look, then dipped his head. "Thank you, Tony. Merry Christmas to you."

"You too. See you in the New Year?"

"The second or third, I believe. Good luck with your endeavors in the meantime."

"Thanks."

And so Vision left. Stephen soon gave up on more research and tried a new tactic with his tracking spell by meditating instead of reading. _Reorganizing all his thoughts and knowledge to find an angle he potentially missed_ , or so he said.

Tony wasn't entirely sure if the floating and billowing cloak was really necessary, but he figured that a sentient cloak wouldn't billow like that if it didn't enjoy it.

God, his life was so weird.

They somehow skipped lunch (well, FRIDAY reminded him and he ate an apple to appease her, but Stephen was still doing his mediating thing and he didn't want to interrupt) and the afternoon crawled into evening. It was then, after several hours of silent meditation, that Stephen opened his eyes.

"I think I have it," he said, his throat sounding dry.

"No kidding?" Tony said. "We'll have to see it. But you sound like me after a two day creative binge, and you were only gone for seven hours."

"Was I?" He reached for his mug of tea from that morning and took a sip. He made a face at it, then went towards the kitchenette for presumably some sort of liquid.

Turned out to be water. When Stephen came back into view, glass in hand, Tony said, "Yeah. So what's next?"

Stephen drank down the whole glass in a few gulps. "I'll use your spare sensor here and test the permanency of the spell. If it's still present tomorrow evening, then I'm confident it will last."

Tony pulled open a drawer for said sensor. "Then you just need to make it reactive at that point, right?"

"Right; I don't think it will be nearly as complicated as this part was. Reactive spells are not uncommon. The only tricky part that I foresee is tying it to the sensor's readings, but I've been studying the incorporation of magic into objects and the fact that the sensor sends back data with the portal's appearance should be enough for me to work with." He took the sensor when Tony offered it to him and set it down on the clear, flat surface of one of the worktops.

Then Tony watched as Stephen created a multitude of symbols and runes within the air, all the same bright gold as his portals but with a wholly different feeling about them. He knew FRIDAY was reading whatever Stephen was doing for him to analyse later, but for now he sat back and appreciated the light show for what it was.

(In the back of his mind he found himself a little surprised that he was "appreciating" it, but there was no denying it: he had grown mostly comfortable around Stephen and his magic. And he was okay with this.)

It took about a minute of continuous gestures and glowing magic before Stephen stopped and, for lack of a better word, pushed his glowing spell work down to the sensor. It shrunk as it approached until it was nothing more than a gleaming speck of dust hovering above it. One more push and it disappeared from sight.

"I'll check on it tomorrow," Stephen said.

"Yeah, sure," said Tony. "In the meantime—do you think anything good's still open in Italy? They have twenty-four hour places, right?"

It turned out that, no, twenty-four hour places weren't common in Italy and the Italians were all asleep. So they settled for some Chicago pizza instead.

Tony, in a moment of impromptu inspiration, also dug out a bottle of really good scotch. When Stephen came back with the pizza, he raised a brow at the bottle. "What's the occasion?"

"A good luck charm. This is to celebrate your spell that you'll find completely working and 100% foolproof tomorrow because we celebrated its success tonight."

"Mmm, that sounds like you're asking fate for trouble."

"I don't believe in fate. Put the pizza down, I'm starving."

Stephen asked politely about his projects, which led Tony to more or less dominate the dinner conversation on his nanite technology. Stephen seemed _very_ interested in their inner workings, and listened carefully with a few choice questions about their capabilities. When Tony pressed further, he admitted that he was considering some of the medical usages such preprogrammed nanites could be used for, which only extended the conversation another half an hour.

Eventually, Stephen turned away to look at his tablet. "I should finish looking at my counterpart's history." He sounded a bit reluctant. To leave the conversation or to dig further down that rabbit hole, Tony didn't know.

But he decided to help him through it by topping off his empty glass with another finger of scotch. "Just say if you need more."

"You're too generous," Stephen said wryly. But he took the drink with him when he returned to his tablet, so Tony counted that as a win.

"Best of luck," he offered with a cheeky grin, and then headed back to his own work to leave Stephen to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit shorter than others in this story because it was originally part of the upcoming chapter eight, which is A Monster already, so I figured out (okay, my beta figured out) how to add more content here and now, you get an extra chapter.
> 
> Coming up: The scene I've been building up to since I wrote the first story in this dang series.


	9. Sometimes Darkness Can Show You The Light

They weren't working for even twenty minutes on their respective projects when Stephen spoke up again. "I found another difference. But it's—it's relatively minor. I haven't talked with the man in years."

Tony looked away from the holographic screen, which had the latest readings on the virtual tests he was putting upon the nanites, to focus on Stephen. "Man? What man?"

Stephen was frowning down at the tablet rather than looking at him. "Well, we were kids still when we met—or as good as—but Frank Brukner. He was my assigned roommate as a freshman. I don't recognize the name of the person who ended up being my roommate in this universe. Did my counterpart ever meet Frank?"

"Uh…" Tony rolled his chair to the physical screen directly connected to the private server he dedicated to everything regarding Stephen Strange (both versions), then ran a quick search. "Nope, no Frank Brukner. Your doppelganger's first roommate was a Drew McCarthy." He clicked the file for Drew. "Accounting major, became a, surprise surprise, an accountant. His Facebook is filled with fishing trips and he's a big fan of the Lakers. Incredibly boring individual."

" _Never had any adventures or did anything unexpected_ ," Stephen quoted under his breath. Tony quirked a brow at him, but the doctor was still looking at Drew's picture on the tablet with a soft frown. "Did I do anything alarming in my undergrad years with Drew?" he asked as he flicked through more photos and files outlining his three years in his accelerated time getting his bachelors.

"Not a thing," Tony answered, making a face at the screen. "And I mean not _anything_ ; there's nothing about you two hanging out together. Seems you were just roommates rather than friends. You managed to get a single the rest of your years there. Roommates that bad, eh?"

Tony said it wryly, but Stephen's answer was a very serious, "Not for me." He was still scanning and reading as he said, "Frank was an art major of all things, but we got along famously well. He came from old money, but from how he acted you wouldn't know it. For our sophomore year we applied to share singles in suites together and doubles if we couldn't get a single." Stephen stilled then and added so quietly that Tony almost didn't catch it, "He got me through Donna's death."

The engineer exhaled; he wasn't particularly good with emotional situations (sensitivity was… not his strong point) but if there was one thing he could understand, it was a best friend getting you through your worst moments. And he had two in the forms of Rhodey and Pepper, and even further support from Happy if necessary. If he didn't have them, who knows where he'd be?

(Who was he kidding, likely dead from alcohol poisoning or a drug overdose by his thirties.)

"Even then," Stephen said, volume back to normal, "I haven't talked to him in years. There has to be something else other than him and Christine."

"You went through your post-graduate years?"

"That's what I did first. Nothing there was different: same school, same advisors, same key people I interacted with. I didn't know what to expect with my undergrad years, but Frank missing—" He cut himself off and shook his head. "There has to be something else that's changed, something other than him and Christine," he repeated. His fingers started swiping through the pad once more, only pausing to quickly read through more information before swiping again.

Tony quelled his own rising feelings that came whenever he thought of Pepper these days and took a silent breath in before speaking. "Does there?" he asked as casually as he could, to keep from accidentally revealing his own wandering thoughts. "You said it yourself: you had colleagues you got along with, but your only real connection at Metro-General was this Christine Palmer. And if I had to guess, your only real friend from undergrad was this Frank Brukner. On the other hand, from what I can tell, your counterpart was a complete loner throughout college, his residency, and his career. Everyone's acquaintance and nobody's friend."

Stephen lifted his head only to run a hand through his hair. He shot a baffled look towards Tony. "That doesn't make any sense. What, are you telling me that I went off the deep end because I didn't have any _friends_?" An ugly sneer crossed his face.

"I would've," Tony retorted, and that wiped the sneer right off Stephen's face. "I don't know where I'd be without Rhodey or—my other friends." He couldn't think of Pep, not right now. "The number of people I can really count on I can count on one hand, Stephen, and those people helped make me the man I am today. Without them, I'd have probably finished this bottle of scotch by now, no assistance by others required." He paused, gauging Stephen's reaction, which seemed fairly minimal. So he added, "Or maybe I'd be like your Tony Stark, who sounds like a real douchebag, by the way." That got a huffed laugh out of the doctor, which Tony considered a success.

Usually he'd get more of a retort out of Stephen from that, but other than the small laugh, the sorcerer didn't take the bait. "Maybe," was all he eventually said, looking down and away.

Ugh, Tony recognized this, too. He sat up and grabbed the scotch and his own glass and pushed himself out of his chair. "No, I mean it. Now come on, we're moving to the couch. Take your drink with you."

Stephen lifted his head at the command and raised his eyebrows before frowning. "I'm fine. I should get back to work, anyway—"

"No, no, no. In the absence of Rhodey, it's fallen to me to determine when it's time to stop work. That's now. Couch time."

To Tony's absolute delight, the Cloak proceeded to physically lift Stephen from his chair and place him up on his two feet. Stephen looked absolutely _baffled_ , which made it all the more sweet.

"Your drink, too," Tony helpfully reminded him, nodding towards the glass.

"Traitor," Stephen muttered at his cloak as he grabbed the glass and made his way to the couch with a visible reluctance. He shooed the Cloak off as he took a seat, stiff in posture and sour in mood. "I'm _fine_ , Tony."

Tony nodded amicably as he sat down beside him. "Oh, yeah, I know you're fine. We're both totally fine, two overworked, stressed, awesome facial hair bros taking a much-needed break."

That got the anticipated reaction. Stephen pivoted his position to fully stare at him. " _What_ did you call us?"

Tony pointed at his own mouth and started making circles with his finger. "You know, the beard thing. Characterizing feature we both share, the awesome facial hair."

Stephen stared at him for another two beats. "Are you serious?"

"As serious as tax evasion."

That got something of a disbelieving 'hah' out of Stephen. The sorcerer looked at his drink and said, "I think I'm going to need more of this, then." He took a drink. "What's the point of this?"

"To take a break," said Tony. "We should've just continued on from dinner. You were floating in the air and thinking seven, eight hours today. And you're a lot more interested in nanotech than most people I've talked to are."

"Of course I am," Stephen said. "From what you've told me about their capabilities with the suit, the potential in medical technology is completely unprecedented. We could program these nanites to—to repair certain organs or destroy cancerous cells. Maybe enough of them could help fix bad mutations in RNA in specific areas of the body. The possibilities are endless."

"Give me more details. Tell me some of your ideas."

From there, Stephen quickly spiraled down the neverending rabbit hole of medicine, showing as much passion for the subject as Tony had for everything related to engineering and building things. This was a side of Stephen that was completely new to him, and he could see how the man was such a great doctor—he clearly loved it as a field of study and practice. It made what happened to him in the car accident almost tragic, when he saw the doctor this animated.

The hypotheses and spinning of ideas continued between them as the bottle of scotch slowly depleted over time. At some point, the Cloak had rejoined Stephen and made itself a blanket across him, but some of its edge ended up on one of Tony's thighs. He had initially frozen in uncertainty, but Stephen was still going and the Cloak wasn't doing anything else, so he let it be and, eventually, his free hand was resting upon it. (It really was very soft.)

At some time the conversation eventually tapered into how he came into medicine. Stephen answered the question with a shrug. "I was always interested in it. Watched my mom clean Donna's and my scrapes and wondered how the polysporin worked. I think I really got interested after I had a bad fall from a tree at twelve and got to watch my leg be stitched up. Majoring in biology to go into medicine was an easy choice, five years later."

Tony was curious about something; he looked sidelong at Stephen. The man was now relaxed, slumped in his seat with a firm, if shaky, grip on his glass that had been topped off a handful of times over their conversation. He figured this was as good a time as any to ask. "Can you tell me a bit about your undergrad friend? This Frank?"

Stephen shot him a sidelong glance. "What do you want to know about Frank?"

"I dunno, anything you want to say about him. Why you became friends with him."

"It was hard _not_ to be friends with Frank," he answered with a soft laugh. "He was one of those people that got along with everyone, and genuinely seemed to like nearly everyone. Even me, of all people. And for whatever reason, he stuck on like glue. We got along very well together in my three years of undergrad. Shame he wasn't interested in becoming a doctor."

Tony huffed. "What the hell did he do with his art degree, anyway?"

"Ah, something in design and marketing, I think."

"You kept in touch with him?"

Stephen paused. "At first," he started. "But it slowed down when I started residency and after he got married. He was kind enough to invite me to his wedding, but getting breaks during residency is—difficult. And by that time, I was mostly focused on my career." His brow furrowed. "Actually, he did contact me soon after my accident. Unfortunately I was too much of an asshole to call him back." He sighed.

"But your doctor friend Christine was there, wasn't she?" Tony asked. "I think you said something along those lines."

"She was. And I treated her so horribly in return." He closed his eyes. "The way I treated my friends would leave you wondering how I treated those I didn't like, if I was so bad to friends."

"Every friend's got bad days," Tony assured him. "God, you should've seen me on _my_ bad days."

"And who were the friends who were there?"

"Hmm?"

"For your bad days. You mentioned earlier," Stephen gestured with his free hand, "that you had friends you could count on one hand that made you who you are, or something of the like. Who're they?"

"Oh, Rhodey you know. Rhodey was the first. We met at MIT. He's very smart, just… not as smart as me."

"Oh, I'm glad I'm not the only asshole friend here." Tony flipped him off in return, causing Stephen to snort in amusement.

But then Tony sobered as his memory went to the next one. "Pepper was the next." He finished off his glass, then poured himself another finger. "Did you know Pepper's not her birth name?"

"I did, actually." Tony turned to look at him in surprise. "Wikipedia," Stephen admitted.

Tony snorted. "Figures."

"Any idea where the nickname came from?"

"'Course I do; I gave it to her."

Stephen rolled his eyes. "Shouldn't be surprised. What's the story behind it?"

He couldn't help but snicker. "So imagine this: it's fifteen years ago, and I'm a young, thirty-something hot shot CEO of the largest weapons manufacturing company in the world. At this point I was starting to expand into other technologies, but those weren't my main focus yet. Anyway, so here I am in my nice, large office in LA, minding my own business when in comes this gorgeous fiery redhead, chin up, back straight, and a livid anger that no one in my company's ever dared to direct to my face. She ignores my security and immediately starts pointing out an error in my calculations that, according to her, would have cost the company billions. But that's not the important bit. Before she even gets to that part, security tries to remove her from my office. She tells them that she has pepper spray and she would use it if they tried to touch her."

Tony laughed softly at the memory. "She didn't even have pepper spray. But at this point I'm really impressed, so I tell them to leave her be and look at the mistake she caught. And she's right. I ask her what she thought about being my assistant to help catch those niggling mistakes in the future. At first I called her Pepper Spray, but that got long real quick and I shortened it to Pepper."

Stephen looked amused. "She never asked to be called Virginia?"

"I was expecting that at some point, myself. Turned out she wasn't very fond of the name, but didn't want to legally change it as she already had a solid resume and reputation. Then the nickname came along, and it sort of spread. Most people don't know the origin story, though."

"I'm honored."

"You should be," Tony said. That was enough about Pepper; time to turn it around. "But you and Christine; does she know that you've… transcended?"

Stephen snorted at the statement. "Not exactly how I'd describe it. But yeah, she knows. I had to go to her for an emergency surgery during the attack on the New York Sanctum. Opened a gateway in the mop closet on her floor and prayed to anything listening that she was working that day."

"Emergency surgery?" Tony took a look at him. "What happened? Your wizard club doesn't seem like they're the type to carry guns, so… did you get stabbed?"

"... basically, yeah."

"Damn." He took another sip. "That's rough. But hey, she got to see you've changed. Apologised and everything?"

"Of course." Stephen narrowed his eyes at him. "What's your question, Stark?"

"Oh, back to last names. My heart." Tony grabbed at his chest, then snorted at Stephen's expression. "I was just _curious_ , since she's seen you've _changed_ , maybe if you'd tried to, I dunno. Take her on a magic carpet ride."

Stephen groaned at the question. "Hold on, I need to drown the memory of you saying that." He tipped the last of his scotch down his throat, then said, "That didn't work. I think I need more."

Tony obliged him, pouring him another two fingers. "Stop evading the question."

Stephen stared at his newly filled glass for a brief moment. "No," he finally answered. "Our worlds are too different, and there's too much history between us. I am just thankful that she has allowed me to retry friendship once more, though…"

"Though?"

He closed his eyes and didn't answer immediately. Tony was about to prod again, but Stephen eventually said, "My job was revealing more dangers day by day. We haven't been able to keep in touch as much this last year, and now I've been away from my reality for five months. It may be for the best to let that connection fade."

Tony stared at him with a furrowed brow. If he didn't have friends in either Frank or Christine, who did he have in his original reality? Wong, maybe? He seemed close to Wong here.

He was about to ask, but then Stephen turned around and said, "What about the rest of your friends?"

"What?"

"You had a fairly big team for a few years."

Oh. This question. Part of him was surprised it didn't come in sooner. Then again, alcohol did wonderful things for dissolving inhibitions, and despite his occasional moments of being an asshole, Stephen was more on the polite side of the line than he himself was, Tony would give the man that.

Still, he sighed. "Well, I like Bruce and Thor well enough. Vision, too. But Vision's an entirely different being, Thor's off-world most of the time, and Bruce is missing."

Stephen's brow furrowed. "Missing? As in, in hiding like the others, or…"

"No, I mean _missing._ Was stuck in a quinjet while he was the Hulk. Somehow broke the tracking system and the ship hasn't been found since. The only good news is that the Hulk is literally indestructible, so it's very improbable that he's dead. But wherever he is, he hasn't decided to reach out. And then a year after he disappeared everything just _exploded_ —" He cut himself off and took a short drink.

The sorcerer spoke slowly, cautiously. "All I know about your former teammates are their public profiles. They don't seem to be bad people."

He shook his head. "No, they're not. It's just—it's complicated."

"Politics can be like that."

"It's not just politics," Tony snapped, causing Stephen to whip his head around to stare at him. Tony held the stare for a moment, then sighed and bowed his head. "God, if it was just politics, it would be so much easier."

"Care to talk about it?"

"No," was his immediate answer, and even he could hear how bad his tone sounded. Shit. Stephen was being _nice_ and he was being _open_ with his own stuff, and here he was, just _shitting_ all over him.

He tried again, careful to monitor his tone as best he could. "I won't—I can't—I'm not going to talk about the last time I saw him."

"Him? Captain America, I presume?"

"Yeah. The others—I get why the others got angry at me. That prison they were in, after the fight at the Leipzig-Halle Airport, it was awful. And the youngest of them—God dammit, I confined her to the Compound to prevent her from being treated like that! Why didn't she just listen—" He cut himself off and ran a hand over his face. "I was going to get them lawyers, regardless of what Ross said, you know. But Steve broke them out before I got that fully rolling. Two of them made deals, anyway, did you know that?"

"I did not."

"Yeah. Clint and the ant guy, though I'm still not quite sure how they found him in the first place. They both have families. Kids. They didn't get a location of where the others went from those two, though, which is what Ross really wanted."

"Do you know?"

"Hmm?"

"Where the others went. Where they're hiding. The news said they were in the UAE not too long ago, but I imagine they need to have a base of operations."

Tony exhaled slowly. "Yeah. I think I know." He leaned his head back against the couch.

Stephen watched him, eyes narrowed in thought. "But you haven't told anyone."

"Well, they're not on American soil. And it'd be a real dick move against someone who's just been—decent. Real decent." Fuck, _decent_ was the understatement of the century to describe T'Challa.

"I also suppose you don't want to cause another international incident."

"Another interna—oh, fuck you," Tony groused at Stephen's grin. He punched him lightly in the shoulder.

"Ow." Stephen rubbed it in return. "I don't think I deserved that."

"I'm pretty sure you did."

"Definitely not," he answered, but now he was looking at his drink in a contemplative way. Tony watched him as he seemed to struggle with something.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

Stephen looked up and straightened his position, seemingly caught off guard. "Ah, sorry. I've probably had one too many refills."

"You're not drunk," Tony scoffed.

"Oh no, but I'm not sober, either."

"That's the point of the scotch. Now, what's on your mind?"

"I'm not sure you want me to answer that."

"Try me."

Stephen shrugged. "As you wish." He collapsed back into a slumped position. "Honestly, you caught me trying to guess where the former Avengers may be and who might have done you a big enough favor that you're ignoring them. I don't have nearly enough information from my world or this one to figure it out." His tone at the end there slipped from neutrality to something else—something that Tony recognized.

He quirked a brow up. "Does that… _annoy_ you?"

"No, of course not."

"Oh, you're a horrible liar under the power of scotch, Doc." His heart filled with childish glee.

Stephen flipped him off, and Tony snickered at the sight. As the silence sat between them, however, Tony began to wonder. Would it not be nice to have someone outside of the whole situation he could tell? Someone he could trust, at that?

That thought came out of nowhere, but the more he thought about it, the more he was certain that he definitely trusted Stephen. Finding the reason for why he was different from Strange just solidified it. Sure, the man had his secrets and was a hypocrite about snooping around, but he could more than deal with that.

Besides, T'Challa hadn't sworn him to secrecy; he'd just told him to be discreet. That trust was—it was something important to him, so he had been very careful with who he talked about it with. Right now, no one but Rhodey, Happy, and Doctor Cho knew about the Wakandan technology. Even Vision was still in the dark. And it wasn't like Stephen was going to tell anyone. Wong, maybe, but Wong was even less likely to talk about it.

"Wakanda. They're in Wakanda."

Stephen blinked in surprise and turned to look at him. "Isn't Wakanda some poor country in Africa? I mean, that's what it is in my reality."

"Don't be so sure on that," Tony said, which only increased the confusion on Stephen's face. Tony shot him a half-smirk. "Turns out that in this reality, they're only pretending to be dirt poor when, in truth, they're one of the most technologically advanced nations on the planet due to a natural resource found nowhere else on Earth. They were gonna come out as insanely advanced to the rest of the world last year, but your doppelganger ruined that by stealing energy resources from all over. Don't blame them for keeping mum, frankly put."

The look on Stephen's face was best described as bewildered. "How do you know all this?"

Tony exhaled and took a purposefully slow sip from his glass. "Pepper. Three weeks after she was attacked, T'Challa—he's the king of Wakanda—reached out to me. Said he may be able to help. I wasn't—I wasn't my best with him at first. Fuck, I was horrible. Asked him what the hell he thought he could do for me, though I insulted him and his country in the process."

Stephen's brow remained furrowed. "I remember that Wakanda had a large part to play in the Accords, and that their king—his father, I presume?" At Tony's nod, he continued, "I remember him dying in an attack on the UN. I did not realize you were better acquainted with his son."

Somehow T'Challa had kept his involvement in both the disastrous roadway chase and more disastrous airport fight out of the media. He had no idea how, but because he did, he decided to keep T'Challa's alternate persona to himself, for now. "We got to know each other through the process. Still, I hadn't talked to him for a good year, year and a half by the time he reached out to me, and when he did, I treated him like shit. He didn't say a word about my insults and just told me to meet him at the Wakandan Embassy in New York."

Tony smiled sardonically. "Imagine my surprise when we go into a secure area of the embassy and I see his medical tech. It's—it's worlds better than anything I have, Stephen. All made of vibranium, too, and you can't synthesize that. Believe me, I've tried in the past.

"So here I am, at a loss for words—yeah, I know, but it was long enough to make an impression—and T'Challa then told me that he was going to reveal Wakanda's advanced state to the world last year, but then he learned of powerful sources of natural energy being stolen. Vibranium has that in spades when it hits a specific temperature. So he kept mum about it, and several months later, I'm hit instead. He told me that Wakanda tech for brain injuries is beyond anything else on Earth. Then he offered the machine and a doctor to stay here in New York—an expert neurologist and neurosurgeon. You'd probably like her."

"Probably," Stephen muttered, shaking his head in amazement. "He just—gave it to you?"

"Trust me, I tried to buy it off him. Would have written him a check with ten zeroes at that point. Every penny I have, Stephen, I would have given him. But T'Challa shook his head, and he said that he was lending me the machine as a courtesy for the woman who needed it. That—that he was told that Pepper deserved such a chance."

Fuck, this was too much. He drained his cup and kept his head down as he stared at it and collected himself. About thirty seconds into this, he caught the scotch bottle floating towards his cup just as it poured him another two fingers.

"Showoff."

"Thought you could use the top off."

Tony looked up to catch Stephen's gentle look, and that in itself nearly broke him. He looked away and took a few, deep breaths.

"I would ask if T'Challa knows Pepper, but it doesn't sound like it," Stephen said, once Tony had a moment to compose himself.

"Ah, yeah, no—he doesn't. Hasn't met her. Stumped me for a bit, too. But I figured it out after I overheard the doctor calling someone on the team in Wakanda. They had another patient recently with some brain issues, but of a different sort. They talked enough that I figured out that they were talking about Barnes, which meant that the one who likely convinced T'Challa was Steve Rogers."

Stephen's brow furrowed in thought. "Barnes—wasn't he framed for the UN bombing? That much I remember from my readings."

"Yeah, he was. He was also brainwashed, thus the 'brain issues'." Everything with Barnes wasn't a rabbit hole Tony wanted to go down, even with Stephen, so he moved on. "That's how I learned Steve—and probably the others—are hiding in Wakanda, at least part of the time." He looked down at his drink. "And that's how I realized it could only have been Steve Rogers that convinced T'Challa to send his tech to help Pepper. Steve is Barnes's friend. I doubt either of them talked about the process with their fellow fugitives in hiding." He huffed softly to himself.

Stephen paused for a moment, brow furrowed in thought. "Despite whatever issues may hang between you still, that was thoughtful of him."

"Thoughtful's one way to say it," Tony said back. He let the silence sit for a moment, then softly exhaled. "Look, with Steve Rogers—hell, with anyone—actions mean more than words for me. And uh, we might—I don't know if we'll ever be the same, but that he thought of Pepper means a hell of a lot to me."

The other man hummed in acknowledgement—maybe agreement—but didn't expound upon it. Again the silence sat for a short bit of time before Stephen picked up the conversation again. "With all that said—where does it go from here for your world's Avengers?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean—when the former Avengers come back once all the legal battles are figured out, or after Ellis leaves office and the presidency flips in 2020, or flips again in 2024, and they're all potentially pardoned in one of those administrations and _then_ come back—where does that leave you? Would you be able to work with them again?"

Tony sighed, low and long, but bit down the sarcastic quip that wanted to come out and considered Stephen's question. "I'd have said no at the beginning of this year, I think," he admitted. "But this year changed things, a little. I don't—I'm not sure if I could be friends with any of them. Not Steve, and not Barnes and Wilson—those are _Steve's_ friends. And I've never had close friendships with Wanda and Natasha. But we were all _friendly_. We could take a ride in a quinjet without trying to kill each other. And at some points, it did feel like we were all—friends. When we were all around after a mission or the aftermath of a party. There were good times."

He groaned. "I'm rambling. I guess, Stephen—that I don't know. I just don't know. Maybe some of them. But others are—they're hard. Things will never be the same between Steve and I. We can't just _go back_. Things happened. We all made choices." It still felt, at his darker moments, that Steve had chosen one friend over the other. That he had kept information Tony _deserved_ to know from him because he never trusted him. And that feeling still stung. It wasn't until he realized that Pepper was using the best medical technology in the world because of Steve that the two-year-long-sting began to hurt less.

Stephen remained quiet as Tony spoke, then paused to gather his own thoughts. "I'm not sure what happened between you and Steve Rogers," he began slowly, "and I don't need to know. It damaged your trust in him, that much is evident." He exhaled. "But—you may want to consider bridging that connection once more at a pace you can handle, before circumstances beyond our control require you to speak with him again."

Tony looked directly at Stephen, narrowing his eyes; there was something ominous in his tone at those last words. "Do you think Strange will make their involvement necessary soon? Rhodey was starting to think that not too long before we met you." _Saved your magical ass_ , he didn't say, but even he knew that it wasn't the time for such comments. He _could_ control himself, thank you. He usually just didn't care about it.

Stephen shook his head. "Not necessarily. I think between the five of us, we can handle Strange." He looked down at his drink, and it took all of Tony's willpower not to rush him as he considered his words. "Your reality and mine, they are very similar. Yes, there are some key differences, but when it came to a lot of major events, they were the same." Another pause; Tony sat on his free hand to keep it from shaking Stephen's words out of him more quickly. "Look, before I got here, there was an overall bad feeling amongst the Masters of the Mystic Arts. A premonition, so to speak. We don't know if this _thing_ was coming in days, months, or years, but we were on alert for it. This overall uneasiness started a few weeks before I got here.

"It turned out that the Masters here in this reality started getting that same premonition about the same time mine did. It's likely some sort of event our realities share, so I don't think it has anything to do with Strange. But it does mean that something—something big is going to come, whether it's two weeks or two years from now. Unfortunately, premonitions such as this one aren't terribly precise with timing," he added dryly.

Tony shot Stephen a pointed look. "It's the stuff with the Infinity Stones, isn't it?"

Stephen looked at him in open surprise. "You know about the Infinity Stones?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Thor told us about them—about Vision's stone—before he left Earth, three years ago. Wong and I compared notes after you ran out of batteries with Baby Cthulhu."

Stephen's expression scrunched up at the nomenclature, but he seemed to realize it was a lost cause and didn't pursue it. "Well, they could be a part of it. It's unusual to see so many active at once, from what I know."

Tony considered the conversation he had with Wong—and what Wong _didn't_ tell him—and thought, _What the hell. Why not._ "Wong seemed to be under the impression that there was a chance they could be part of this—premonition, as you call it. We have the Mind Stone, Space Stone, and Reality Stone accounted for. Didn't know much about the Power Stone or Soul Stone."

He paused to study Stephen's expression. Stephen's face was tightening in—not anger, at least. That was good. Stress? _Distress?_ It was hard to tell.

"What do you know of the Time Stone?" Tony ventured. "Know where it is?"

Stephen didn't answer for a moment. He was staring at the room, but his mind was far, far away; Tony recognized the look. "In my reality, yes," he eventually answered.

So if sorcerers from both realities knew about the Time Stone, it was very likely that Stephen's order both here and there had hid it, or were guarding it, or something of the like. Interesting. "You don't go planet-hopping, do you?" Tony asked.

He broke out of his faraway gaze to stare at Tony. "What?"

"Like, can your portals take you off-planet? Do you go travelling around the galaxy?" That'd be pretty cool, actually.

"What—no. My order's job is to defend _this_ world, Earth. I've been to different dimensions, but that's an entirely different thing."

"So the Time Stone's on Earth, then."

Stephen didn't answer, which was as good as a "yes" for Tony. That meant two stones were here on Earth, and two on Asgard, making both places prime targets for the type of being Wong described. That—that was terrifying. He slowly exhaled and ran a hand through his hair. "Look, I've known _something_ is coming since New York," he said. "That was the idea behind Ultron, you know: build something before whatever is out there comes here. Give us some sort of defense mechanism against… whatever's coming." Again he sighed. "I can't say that I'm thrilled that my unconscious knowledge of this— _something_ is shared by your order, too. Can't just blame paranoia anymore. And with two of these Infinity Stones on Earth—that makes us a huge target. Thor doesn't think it's a coincidence these Stones have all popped up, and I don't think Wong does, either. I'd bet my abused kidney that the Stones will be involved."

"It's very possible," said Stephen. "And in the time of such a world-threatening event, whatever it is," he continued, looking at Tony with a side glance, "both my world and your world are going to need the Avengers. Assuming nothing's changed in my world during the last few months, they have a strong team. This world's going to need the same." He shrugged. "So it might be easier for you to start bridging the gap between you and Rogers under your own terms—because, as you said, something is coming. And you have a means with this King T'Challa, if you think you can convince him to send a message to Rogers."

Tony couldn't help but smirk. "I've got better." He reached his free hand down deep into his pocket to pull out the old flip phone.

Stephen's eyebrows shot up. "And you were making fun of _me_ for my phone."

"Hah. Trust me, I wouldn't have chosen this. Steve mailed this to me about two, three weeks after I last saw him. With a letter." He still didn't know what to make of the letter. Half of him considered that Steve was actually sorry for keeping the secret and realized how much it hurt him, and their relationship; the other half was convinced that it was a passive-aggressive maneuver that Steve did to make him look like the good guy reaching out, and him the bad guy. The back-and-forth debate in his head drove him to the point that he hadn't actively thought of the letter in some time, having quashed all desire to think of it due to said inner debate. "The letter said that if I needed him—or them—that he'd be here."

"Do you think he meant that?"

"In a world-destroying scenario, yeah, if he could get to the place in time. He doesn't have fancy portals like you do." Tony paused. "I guess he was there for Pepper, in what way he could. Not sure if he'd do the same if _I_ was in a coma, though. Pepper's a lot nicer than me."

"You might be surprised." Stephen looked down at his empty glass. "Still, he left you a way to contact him. Consider what I said; I'd rather you not be going through some sort of emotional crisis while the fate of the world's at stake."

Tony placed a hand on his heart. "I didn't know you cared so much."

Stephen shot him a half-smile. "Oh, no, I just know I might be the one picking up the pieces of you as you fall apart."

"Oh, you don't have to worry about that; that's Rhodey's job."

"Ah. Well, in that case…"

"Asshole."

"Pot, kettle."

Tony scoffed verbally at the accusation. "I am the most polite person you'll ever meet." He slowly sat up, then pushed himself to his feet. Mostly steady; he could walk just fine. "Which is why I'm telling you, the rest of the Compound's minimal staff is going off for Christmas starting the 21st. FRIDAY's already prepping looping video feeds of this whole building; you can take one of the guest rooms upstairs, then! See, polite."

Stephen's brow furrowed. "I haven't been keeping track of dates recently. When's the 21st?"

"Uh, Friday. Two days from now. Well, when it rolls over to midnight, one day from now, technically. But they're all booking it Friday morning."

"I really don't mind the couch." Stephen plucked up the pillow from the side of it and leaned heavily against it, then slid into a lying position, now that Tony was standing. "Wong does have an inflatable mattress. This couch is just—really comfortable."

"I only buy the highest quality of goods. The beds are better, though."

"I've slept in worse places than couches, Tony."

"Just saying. You can even ward up your very own bedroom."

"I have been meaning to try to replicate Wong's wards that he placed down here. They're very intricate."

"There you go! You can do that in a guest room." He raised his hand, then turned to go to the door as he said, "Scotch's kicking in. Night."

Stephen grunted a, "Night," in return, and Tony left the basement workshop. That night, he fell asleep quickly and remembered none of his dreams in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another set of Lots o' Notes:
> 
> I bounced back and forth a bit about if Tony would still drink after his insane bender in Iron Man 2. But I had to review Age of Ultron for other parts of this fic anddddd he is drinking at the party in the beginning of the film so it looks like he didn't go full on sober forever. But I think he'd avoid getting absolutely wasted if at all possible. Tipsy okay, wasted not okay. Nothing wrong with loosening up, especially if you have to go through some rough memories. But for the sake of this fic, he does not have a problem with alcohol addiction or a chance of relapsing due to one night of drinking.
> 
> Frank Brukner is a doctor that Stephen is acquainted with, and seems to be friends with, in a couple issues from 30 years ago in the comic book verse. But I gave him a polar opposite major because I thought it'd be more interesting (and a fun personal connection with my own art major and my hard-science-majoring best friends, hah). Drew McCarthy came from a name generator.
> 
> The Tolkien quote at the beginning is completely and utterly self indulgent; if there's one authorial insert within Stephen Strange, it's that he is totally a Tolkien fan.
> 
> Awesome facial hair bros is now an infamous quote from the comics; the panel can be found with any quick search. Stephen's childhood memories are fictitious and partially expounded upon in my writings elsewhere. The Pepper story is actually extended canon from the book version of the film, IIRC.
> 
> I reread Steve's letter while writing this story and personally don't see the passive aggressiveness that some fans say is in it. I did a lot of reading about the definition of passive aggressive and examples of it just to make sure I wasn't missing something obvious, like "Well at least some of us aren't on the run, isn't that nice for you." :P I decided Tony can represent both sides of the 'letter' debate, which is perhaps the most even way I can treat it as I understand it's a point of contention amongst some folks. Hopefully less than it was, since it's been four years, and, yeah. It's been four years.
> 
> Finally, according to Wiki, Obama was president of Earth-199999 (the MCU) until 2012, replaced by Matthew Ellis. It's unknown if either of these presidents had 1 or 2 terms in the MCU, but for the sake of ease, I'll say Ellis won his reelection in 2016 for Earth-197320. Yeah. Also Ellis is officially part of the recently-revived Democratic-Republican party that uses yellow as its official color and is represented by a turkey in this world. Absolutely none of that is relevant to the story :P


	10. You're The One Who Can Redefine It

Tony woke up feeling unusually refreshed. He quickly remembered everything that happened last night and lay there for a time, rolling it all over in his head as morning sunlight streamed through his window.

When he had started prodding at Stephen to both satisfy his own curiosity and in some sort of attempt to make him feel better by 'talking it out', as his many therapists over the years have suggested, he wasn't expecting to have the tables turned on him. He _definitely_ wasn't planning on actually talking about, well, everything they talked about. That scotch was dangerous stuff.

But he didn't feel particularly _bad_ about talking about it, either. Stephen had been wonderfully non-judgemental and even-keeled, which was a breath of fresh air compared to everyone else that had ever broached the subject in the last two years. And he made good points that he hadn't considered, at least not in the way Stephen had worded them.

He glanced at his bedside table, where Steve's outrageously inferior flip phone sat. He'd have to think about what Stephen said.

But not now. Now it was time for a shower, coffee, and work.

When he arrived at the basement workshop space he found Stephen was already up and washed. There was a floating book set at eye-level and half-eaten toast sitting on a plate (Tony tried to keep the kitchenette as stocked up as possible now that Stephen was spending his days there), but his concentration was on his phone. He was mid-sentence when Tony walked into the room.

"—there shortly, period."

Huh. Stephen was using the voice-to-text feature on the Stark Phone.

They made eye contact as Tony walked further into the room. Stephen gave him a half-smirk in acknowledgement, then said to the phone, "Give me another ten minutes, period." He pressed a button to send off the message.

"Well, well, well," said Tony, grinning.

"I didn't say I would _never_ use it," Stephen shot back good-naturedly. He grabbed the floating book and placed it on the table and the phone in his pocket. "I'm glad you're up early, though. I forgot to tell you that I need to be gone the next couple of days."

Tony frowned. "Why's that?"

"It's the solstice. It gets very active around the world at this time of year, and it's about to really get started. It's already past 3 a.m. on the 21st in Samoa and the rest of the Pacific islands in that area, as well as New Zealand, are only an hour behind. In the next few hours it'll tick over throughout mainland Asia and I expect it to be very busy. The Order here is still very few in number, so I am taking the time to assist them. Besides, I won't know if the spell took to the sensor for another nine to ten hours."

"Huh. So what, is the solstice just bad in Asia or should I expect you to be gone until tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow as well. It's a worldwide event. The borders between dimensions can get a bit thin during the solstice, and there is a chance that people who practice ancient rituals may stir something very old—and unwanted." Stephen paused for a bite of toast. "Or some idiot teenagers start playing with an Ouija board and something slips through."

Tony narrowed his eyes. "Wait—you're telling me that the Ouija board game _mass produced_ by the Parker Brothers—the same guys who make _Monopoly_ —can actually summon something beyond cheap frights?"

Stephen took another bite, then answered, "Not exactly." Tony gave him an expectant look and he explained, "In both this reality and mine, the first production of Ouija boards _could_ talk to the spirits of the dead, though nothing more than that. One of the four founders was a sorcerer, but it's still not known who by Kamar-Taj as there is more than one way to learn the Mystic Arts. But that was in the late 19th century, and Kamar-Taj caught on quickly, so that business stopped fast. Still, there were five to ten thousand boards distributed or sold beforehand. While most by now have been found or destroyed through the passing of time, we occasionally still come across one.

"We're more worried about the batch of Parker Brothers boards made in 1973 and '74 that some asshole thought would be fun to make actual demon-summoning devices. Most of those have been removed or destroyed by us, but they found another one in this reality only three years ago, so they're still popping up."

Tony smirked. "1973 to '74, eh? Someone inspired by _The Exorcist_?"

"Unfortunately." Stephen paused. "Ouija boards, though, are usually just a problem around Halloween. I don't expect any problems around that nature." He stuffed the rest of the toast in his mouth and gulped down the last of his tea. "I have to get going, though. I should be back late tomorrow evening, or early Saturday if it's especially busy."

"I'll probably be working late Friday, so drop in anytime," Tony offered. Stephen gave him a nod of thanks, and with a quick portal he was gone.

* * *

Rhodey came back to the Compound from Washington in the early afternoon. Tony leaned back in his chair as the colonel opened the basement door. "Rhodey, pumpkin! How was our dear friend Secretary Ross?"

"A real treat. Full of jokes, good spirit, and holiday cheer," Rhodey deadpanned as he entered. He took a sweep of the room. "Where's Stephen?"

"Doing magic stuff. Something about the solstice and borders between dimensions." He waved a hand to dismiss it. "Good news is that he had a breakthrough with his spell-thing." He then gestured towards the sensor they left on the desk last night. "He'll know if his trick worked when he comes back. Then I guess he just needs a couple finishing touches before we put it to action. Won't be long, now."

"Good." Rhodey paused at the couch and raised his eyebrows, then picked up the quarter-full bottle of scotch from last night. "Looks like you got out the good stuff, too."

Ah, right. "Well, at first it was just to preemptively celebrate his breakthrough with his spell."

Rhodey set the bottle back down. "But?"

"Stephen finished going through his history. Found the discrepancies. They were a bit of a bummer for him, so I was just, you know. Trying to cheer him up."

"Huh. What were they? I combed through that information nearly as many times as you did. Is his sister still alive in his reality?" He sat down nearby, the hydraulics in his leg braces making a low sound as he did.

Tony shook his head. "No, that's the same. Turns out that we were right on with our analysis of Strange: he had no friends as an adult. Not in college or his workplace. Stephen, in contrast, had a real good friend in college and another friend—an ex, too, if you'd believe it—that he worked with at the Metro-General. Strange didn't meet either of these people. And it turns out that the college friend got Stephen through his sister's death, and the ex got him through the aftermath of his car accident."

"That ex sounds like a saint. I can't imagine any of my exes doing that for me."

Tony smirked. "Any of mine would want something out of it at the end." He glanced back at his holographic screen as something completely unrelated came to him regarding a potential suit upgrade. He typed in a few notes on tests to run later, then looked back at Rhodey, who was more than used to his occasional distractions mid-conversation. "From what Stephen said, though, his doctor friend Christine _was_ a saint. So yeah, he had two good friends for two of the hardest moments of his life, while Strange seemed to have no one."

"So… the power of friendship literally kept the good Stephen from turning into a power-hungry madman." His voice had a tone of disbelief in it.

Tony shrugged. "Is it so hard to believe? _Really_ consider it." Surely he wouldn't need to spell it out further for his best friend.

Rhodey did as suggested and paused, leaning back and folding his arms as his gaze unfocused in thought. It didn't take long for him to say, "Okay, I see where you're coming from. He's a bit of a genius in his own field, isn't he? What we read on Strange seemed to indicate he was on his way to a Nobel Prize if he kept it up."

"I don't see what genius has to do with it," Tony half-complained.

"Geniuses and their friends—or lack of them—have _everything_ to do with it," Rhodey said. "People with big brains have a harder time making friends. Most people would just find someone else. Geniuses, they need _specific_ people, patient souls that know all about the care and feeding of their eccentric and very particular genius companion." Tony flipped him off, and the colonel only laughed. "But hey, you know what they say: friends will make you or break you. Looks like they helped make Stephen."

"Yeah, tell me about it," said Tony. Hell, he experienced that phrase from both sides. "Remind me, are you leaving today or tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow, once I've made sure that the rest of the Compound's cleared out for the holidays. Then I'm headed to JFK." Rhodey gave him a thoughtful look. "Are you sure you want to stay here? I'm sure my family would be happy to have you this year, even if it's just for a day or two."

Tony waved him off. "Nah, I'm good. Not really a Christmas person, anyway. Besides, I already told Stephen I'd be here when he came back from his solstice business."

"Fair enough. I figured I'd invite you before I told you what came in, at least." Tony perked up, straightening in his chair. Rhodey gave him a knowing smirk. "Got a special shipment from Wakanda that arrived just after me. I peeked inside; I think it's a bit of vibranium for you to play with."

"And you were trying to get me to _leave_ ," Tony said accusingly. He jumped out of his chair and asked FRIDAY for directions as he sprinted out of the basement. Rhodey laughed and made his way after him at a more languid pace.

* * *

The unexpected but very welcome shipment of vibranium kept Tony busy for the rest of the evening. It was with incredible reluctance that he went to bed that night, but he forced himself to try and get at least four hours of sleep before diving back into it the next day.

The possibilities were truly endless. It was well-known by anyone familiar with metallurgy that the material was incredibly versatile; Tony could see it himself in how the Wakandans had crafted it into the medical technology T'Challa lent Pepper. However, to his knowledge vibranium had never been tested against magic. If he could find a way to utilize it to sense for the atomic components that came into being with the presence of Stephen's magic, he wouldn't have to rely on Californium any longer, which meant he could create even more sensors. It just was a matter of time before Stephen returned and he could see if it had any sort of reaction that could be measured, and then determine from there the smallest quantity needed to produce the reaction. With Californium, he only needed a microgram—one-millionth of a single gram—per sensor. If vibranium had anywhere near the same results, he could make thousands of sensors with the sample he had now and still have plenty to spare for other projects.

It was the most excited he'd been about one of his projects in a very long time. FRIDAY had to remind him to eat, so he worked through whatever easy meals he could scrounge up as he bombarded part of his vibranium sample with experiments and tests. He also paused for a moment to say goodbye to Rhodey, though the man knew not to pull him away too long.

"If Strange shows up, even if it's Christmas day— _call me_. I can always get the family to do another round of Christmas dinner a couple days later."

Tony assured him he would, and then he was the sole person left at the Compound. He didn't care; the vibranium was _awesome_.

It was sometime Friday afternoon that a sudden thought came to mind: he really should thank King T'Challa. This thought came unprompted, without Rhodey having mentioned it beyond a casual comment as Tony opened the package yesterday. He figured remembering to thank someone was some form of character growth.

"Hey uh, FRI, what time is it in Wakanda right now?"

"It is Friday, 11:30 p.m. in Wakanda, boss."

Ah, well. That was probably too late for any sort of call. But it was best to do this now before he forgot. Sure, FRIDAY could remind him, but then Stephen would be back and he had entirely way too many things he wanted Stephen to do with the vibranium. He knew himself; he wouldn't be bothered to call again until sometime after Christmas. Maybe even the New Year.

_Hmm. Of course there is…_ "FRI, check the Wakandan Embassy website to see if they're still open for calls."

"Looks like they're open for another half-hour."

"Dial them for me." He waited for the tone of the numbers, then the ringing.

After two rings it was picked up. "Hello, this is the Wakandan Embassy of New York City. My name is Nanali; how may I help you today?"

"Hey Nanali. Tony Stark—you know, Iron Man. You might remember I visited your embassy earlier this year?"

"I do, Mr Stark. How may I help you today?"

Not even a little bit of a reaction—no tonal change, nothing. These Wakandans were _unflappable_. "King T'Challa sent me, ah, a gift. I'm not sure how to reach him, but I just wanted to express my gratitude for his thoughtfulness. Do you have anyone there that could get that message through the right channels so it reaches him?"

"We do, Mr Stark," said Nanali. "Is there anything else you would like to convey?"

"Just that—that I'm grateful for his support this year. If he ever has a need for me, he can call me day or night, twenty-four seven." He paused. "If for whatever reason he wants to talk to me personally, you can give him this number. Tell him not to worry about timezones; I don't keep normal hours."

He heard the sound of typing in the background. "Very well, Mr Stark. I have taken your message. Is there anything else I can help you with today?"

"No, thanks. Have a good weekend."

"You too, Mr Stark, and happy holidays."

He frowned to himself after she hung up. "Well. Hopefully that does it." From what he saw of his visit there, the people at the Wakandan Embassy did not mess around. He was fairly confident his message wouldn't be lost in some bureaucratic mess.

It turned out his faith in the Embassy proved to be fruitful. The afternoon turned into evening, which then turned into very late evening, and Tony kept himself occupied with his numerous tests and experiments with the vibranium as he waited for Stephen. It was an hour until midnight in New York with still no sight of him when FRIDAY said, "You have a call, boss. It's King T'Challa."

Tony blinked in surprise and leaned back. "Put him through." She did, and he said, "King T'Challa; you're up early."

"And you are up late, Mr Stark," T'Challa replied. "Your message indicated that you keep odd hours; is this a good time to call?"

"Great time," Tony said, glancing to his right at the portal landing bay. Hopefully Stephen wouldn't come in anytime soon. "And call me Tony, please."

"Then I must insist you call me T'Challa," he said in turn. "It has been some months since we last spoke."

"Right, yeah." Tony silently exhaled; he remembered the call very well. "When Pepper's GCS reading went up to a six. I said it then and I'll say it again—I don't know how to thank you except by offering you enormous amounts of money."

T'Challa laughed softly. "And as I said then, there is no money needed. You would understand well that money means little to an already wealthy man."

"Then whatever else I can offer, consider it yours," he replied. "Except maybe a couple of my bots, but I could make similar copies."

"I will keep that in mind." A brief pause. "I spoke with Ms Potts's doctor a few weeks ago. I understand that there has been little change since the summer, but that they are still conducting research into it. As you know, the method of attack was new to us."

Tony audibly exhaled this time. "It was to me, too. There's no blame from me on not having it figured out. I've been trying to do the same. I'll see what I can make of the vibranium you sent—which is _very_ appreciated. I've never been able to play with the raw, unrefined material before."

"Oh, that is good to hear!" T'Challa said, sounding genuinely pleased. "I have seen your inventions and I imagine that you can put what you have to good use, though it is but a little."

"Quantity is a matter of perspective in my eyes," Tony replied. "Still, thank you. I know how valuable this material is to your people, especially in the current climate, what with power sources being stolen left and right the last year and a half."

T'Challa hummed in agreement. "It is a great shame. I wish I could show a bit more of what Wakanda has to offer the world, but until this thief is caught, it is unfeasible. Your video file showed that his method of infiltration was unlike any technology or power I've seen on Earth. Some new trait in a meta-human, perhaps."

Eventually, he'd need to spill the beans about the so-called _Mystic Arts_ , though if they didn't understand the power source, he wasn't entirely sure that just a name and brief explanation would help them. But he'd need to get Stephen's and Wong's okay first; he was pretty sure they wanted it to be as secret as possible. For now, he just nodded. "I get it—and I appreciate the trust you've given me."

"I was assured you were most suitable in both putting the vibranium to new uses and keeping its source a secret." Tony's brow furrowed in thought; surely Steve hadn't said _that_ about him. He wasn't sure who would, though; who else knew both him and the king of Wakanda?

T'Challa continued, "Has any nation reached out to the Avengers to look into this matter with the thief? I do not recall anything official from the U.N. this year."

Tony exhaled and shook his head. "Some facilities have reached out to SI to upgrade their cameras, but when it comes to finding the guy, we're being kept out." After SI had turned over physical evidence of the attack in the research labs to the CIA, which had taken over a lot of what S.H.I.E.L.D. used to run before it collapsed, Secretary Ross had told Tony he wasn't needed and to "stay out of it". This of course meant that Tony was just doing everything off the grid, and because Ross had his own issues with all the inner fighting between various federal departments regarding the Accords (alongside the numerous lawsuits), Ross's people just didn't have the time to bother Tony about something so minor in the grand scheme of things—if they had any idea that he was doing it in the first place.

That worked just fine for Tony.

"This seems an ideal case for the Avengers," King T'Challa replied. "But it seemed your team was kept strictly to search and rescue this year, correct?"

Tony's brow furrowed. "Uh, yeah, so we were." He hadn't noticed, what with his spare time split between trying to find Strange, keeping an eye on Spider-kid, and keeping everything off the radar, but the king made a solid point. "Probably due to all the legal battles happening right now across the States and Europe. Think there's a couple cases in South America, too."

"The Accords, as they currently stand, may not make it to the end of the next year," T'Challa mused.

He shrugged in turn, a small discomfort pulling at him at the direction of the conversation. It was one thing to talk about it with Stephen and a whole other thing to talk about it with T'Challa. Besides, the sorcerer could arrive any minute, so that was all the more reason to end it. "Possibly. Hey, uh, I know I said this was a good time to talk, but I was ignoring the fact that I pulled most of an all-nighter last night with the vibranium and I'm beginning to feel it. I should probably end this call soon—just wanted to thank you personally, since you called."

T'Challa replied, "That is understandable. You are very welcome for the vibranium; I look forward to hearing what you do with it. And ah, it is almost Christmas, correct?"

Tony glanced at his computer; still the 21st, but the 22nd was barely half an hour away. "Yeah, three days from now. Sounds like it's not really celebrated in Wakanda."

"We do not celebrate it," he confirmed. "Our holidays have more ancient roots. Still, may you have a pleasant season of festivities."

Like that was possible. Still, he owed the guy more than a sarcastic quip back and answered, "Thanks. Have a good one."

When the call ended, Tony ran a hand through his hair. Christmas wasn't exactly a fun affair throughout most of his life; this year, it was going to be completely unbearable with Pepper still in a coma. So he'd do what he always did during tough years: ignore the holiday's existence by working in the workshop. And he had several good reasons to keep to the basement this year.

Another hour and a half passed before Tony was drawn out of his work by the sound of sparks indicating Stephen's arrival. His discomfort at the portals had tempered down to something he could almost fully ignore mostly due to the fact that he actually looked forward to seeing Stephen.

Not that he was going to admit that to him. No way.

"Merlin," he said in greeting as the portal closed. "Fight any dozen-eyed tentacle monsters today?"

"You don't want to know," was Stephen's answer. Tony took a closer look; he looked exhausted, as if he hadn't slept at all in the last two days. "But the worst of it should be over."

"Uh huh," Tony answered, putting up an unperturbed front. In reality, he wasn't sure he wanted to know the details of any of the fights after dealing with the headache that was Baby Cthulhu. "So the cameras upstairs are looping now, if you want to grab a guest suite. FRIDAY can show you the way."

Stephen waved him off. "I'm fine; I had a nap twenty or so hours ago. I want to try and make more headway with the spell—well, if it took in the first place." He headed over to the sensor and started waving his hands over it.

Tony folded his arms and leaned back in his chair. "I'll be down here for a bit longer. And if I can pull you away from your spellcasting, I could use you for something. Did your spell-thing take?"

Stephen watched his sigils for a moment, then smiled at something that he saw within them. "Yes; the spell is still present. Now it is simply a matter of tying a triggering mechanism to it, and I don't believe that will be difficult. I'll also have to monitor just how long this spell lasts. It's been over two days now, and I can more than work with that—but if it lasts for a week, that means even less maintenance." He paused, then looked up to Tony, brow furrowed. "I'm sorry, you said you could use me?"

He wondered if he sounded like that when he was in the middle of inventing or figuring out a problem. It wouldn't terribly surprise him. "Yeah. It's been quiet while you've been gone; I haven't seen anything on the sensors. But I got a most delightfully unexpected shipment of vibranium straight from Wakanda not too long after you left. I've been trying to figure out a way to make more sensors without the restrictions of Californium, and vibranium may be an answer. It's super versatile. I'll need you to throw spells at it, though, to see if it reacts in any way."

"I can do that," Stephen replied. "Though it may be best that we wait until tomorrow. I've—been pushing myself the last two days. I will be more effective after some rest."

"Didn't run out of magic again, did you? You need to really check your batteries."

Stephen replied by opening a portal straight to the kitchenette sink and filling up a glass of water.

Tony snorted. "Right, point taken. Still, it's something I want to try out, now that you're closer to finishing your tracking spell. I'd love to create more sensors as soon as possible."

Stephen pulled his arms out of the portal, glass of water in hand. It closed as he shrugged. "I'm not entirely sure where I'd place more sensors at this point. It seems he's keeping low to the ground ever since his failure in Germany."

Tony noticed that Stephen's grip was a little shakier than usual. Rhodey, at this point, would be pushing for sleep, but Tony wasn't Rhodey. "Maybe Strange is taking a break for the holidays," he quipped.

The sorcerer snorted softly. "Doubt it. It's not something I really did in my adult life, and he has less reason to."

He smiled wryly. "Something we all share in common, then."

Stephen walked over to his space where he had his research and sat down, placing his glass on the worktop. He created another portal which he told Tony led to a "pocket dimension". As he pulled out a book, he quirked an eyebrow upward in question. "Not doing anything with Rhodey?"

Tony glanced over at the holographic screens spitting back data on the latest series of tests that had just completed on a sample of vibranium. "Rhodey's got family," said Tony, looking back at Stephen. "He'd have me over in a heartbeat because he's a good guy like that—and he already tried—but it's not something I want to intrude on. He deserves a break from me."

A neutral nod in return brought Tony brief amusement. "I suppose Vision doesn't have a reason or a large need to celebrate any holiday, either," Stephen added, but then his brow furrowed. "Though he took off for the holiday, didn't he?"

Tony scoffed. "Yeah, he did. He didn't have much of a reason, but then he got a secret girlfriend and now he's going offline every moment he can reasonably do so. So he's gone."

Stephen's brows rose. " _A secret girlfriend?_ "

Oh, right; he didn't know. Tony sighed loudly and looked heavenward in the most nonchalant, exasperated way possible. "He's seeing someone who's technically a fugitive of the United States. I've known for over a year now, but I'm seeing how long I can drop obvious hints that I know before he either gets it or cracks. Haven't figured out if he's pretending to be oblivious or not, admittedly, though I'm leaning to the former." He shook his head. "If you asked me a year and a half ago I'd have said it has to be the latter, that he wouldn't understand such subtle sarcasm. But he's definitely picked up on it, and his understanding continues to grow in ways even I didn't see happening. He's—advancing in ways I never thought possible." He wondered how much of that was due to the Mind Stone.

Stephen wasn't an idiot, which was one reason Tony liked him, and so it didn't take long at all for him to figure it out and say, "He's seeing one of the former Avengers?"

"Yup."

"Seems like a conflict of interest."

"Yup."

"So, the same conflict of interest you have with the law and this Spider-Man."

"It's not exactly the same. It's barely the same. There's actually a lot of differences."

Stephen waved his hand dismissively. "Similar enough."

"Not at all." Tony pushed the conversation forward before Stephen could retort. "Regardless, this means he's out for Christmas until the New Year. He did accept a phone though, for if an emergency pops up."

"That's good to know. Hopefully we won't need to disturb him."

"Rhodey, too—he wants to be called if anything comes up."

Stephen huffed in soft amusement. "Well, then if we're lucky, my other self will decide to forego our standing tradition and take a break for the holidays." His brow furrowed, and he added, "Though it reminds me that Rhodey's reports from Germany said it seemed like Strange was wounded during his attack. The lack of any movement since his failure seems to suggest that is the case, as—if he's anything like me in this aspect—failure would usually cause him to push faster and harder until he reaches success."

Tony nodded in agreement. "That sounds like his M.O." He looked back at the vibranium test data. "Serves the bastard right; he's hurt plenty of people. Call it karma, getting a taste of his own medicine." He then narrowed his eyes and looked back at Stephen. "Karma isn't a thing too, is it?"

"Not to my knowledge," was not exactly the completely certain answer Tony preferred to hear. Before he could prod further in that direction though, he saw Stephen hesitate, and so he bit his tongue. The sorcerer looked down at his book and opened it before saying cautiously, "Has there been any change with Ms Potts?"

It was his turn to look away. He was mute as he shook his head, but quickly realized Stephen may still not be looking his way. "No," he managed.

He heard Stephen clear his throat. "You ah, said the other night. That Wakanda lent its technology. Has it—did it do anything to help?"

Tony ran a hand through his hair. "Ah, yeah. Uh, helped her reading on the GCS go up. From a three to a six." He spared a glance at Stephen; Stephen caught his eye for a split second before turning away.

"That's good," Stephen replied. "Do you know if anyone around her talks to her?" He quickly went on, "I just mention it because there have been studies that show that talking to comatose patients can be beneficial. It's no guarantee—it's largely still speculation—but it certainly doesn't hurt, either."

He cleared his throat at that point. "I know her nurses talk to her. Happy as well. I have." _But I don't visit enough_ , Tony didn't say. Seeing her like that, day after day after day… it was too much.

"That might be something for you to do for Christmas; it's certainly the norm in hospitals."

Tony pressed his lips together and couldn't look at Stephen as he said, "Possibly." It just _hurt_ seeing her like that; it hurt so much. That the Wakandans had been stuck for so long on figuring out what was likely a magical injury hit hard against the hope he was keeping desperately afloat. But if he did visit, he could tell her things that were new. He could update her on Stephen and all the progress they made with finding and bringing down Strange. And when they captured him, he was certain he could figure out what he knew about magic and the brain, he was a damned neurosurgeon at one point—

His brain suddenly short circuited as his argument from two months ago with Stephen came to mind. Stephen was also a neurosurgeon, because _duh_. He had mentioned right there and then that he could serve as a resource, which _no shit, Sherlock, of course he can_. It had been a thought stewing in the back of Tony's mind back then, pushed aside in favor of the early suspicion and uncertainty in trusting Stephen, then temporarily forgotten in the wake of everything else.

He was such a fucking idiot. In the end, he might not need Strange's knowledge at all—not if Stephen possessed it.

"Soon after we met," Tony started quickly as he turned to face him, "you said you might be able to help Pepper, with your background in neurosurgery and magic. Is that true?"

Stephen heard the change in tone and looked up to meet his gaze. He frowned in thought and answered slowly, "It's true that I might be able to help, yes. But I cannot guarantee anything, not without first examining her myself."

"Examine in what way? CT scans, MRIs?"

"Those, as well as seeing her myself. I guess you could say I'd need to do a magical scan on her brain."

Tony hesitated. "How invasive is that?"

"Completely noninvasive," Stephen reassured him. "The initial scan would be just that; anything further I could not ethically perform without the consent of the patient or their healthcare proxy—which I presume is you."

"Yeah." He pressed his lips together and turned away from Stephen as he considered it. It didn't take more than a couple seconds to come to a decision, a decision that was easy to make now that he knew him well. "Yeah, okay. That sounds great. Let's go."

As Stephen blinked and looked down at himself and his ragged appearance, Tony caught himself and amended his statement. "Oh, yeah, it's—okay, not now. Happy's probably not awake and would kill me for ruining his beauty sleep, and you look like a stiff wind would knock you over."

"You have such a way with words," was Stephen's dry reply.

"Yeah, I'm great at them," Tony quipped back. He began to pace. "Tomorrow, then—no, wait, I need to cancel the nurses. I can cancel the nurses. But no, the doctor's coming tomorrow, too, for that—that thing." He snapped his fingers. "FRIDAY, what was the thing?"

"The Wakandan medical team are performing a hardware upgrade on their selection of medical technology currently being lent for Ms. Potts' use," FRIDAY replied, "You agreed they could perform the upgrade in the penthouse so the machinery would not need to be moved to the embassy. The upgrade is expected to take most of tomorrow, and the team wants to run a new set of diagnostics for Ms Potts the next day."

"Right, right," Tony breathed. "Shit, yeah, we made this agreement three, four weeks ago. Don't think I can cancel on them." He exhaled. Two more days wouldn't harm Pepper. He could wait two more days. "Could you do the 24th? I'll make sure none of the nurses or her doctor come that day." A beat passed as he remembered the date's relative importance to about a quarter of the Earth. "You're not busy on Christmas Eve, are you?"

"Nothing planned," Stephen answered, "barring any interdimensional emergencies."

"Great. Great." He exhaled slowly to slow down his racing heart. There were no promises of some miracle in two days; Stephen had to examine her first. It was more than likely going to be complicated. _Calm down, Tony._ He exhaled slowly again, then looked back at Stephen. "Right. I'll leave you to do your magic tracking stuff, but I wasn't kidding about the stiff breeze. There's bedrooms upstairs, too, remember? FRIDAY can show you one."

Stephen shook his head. "I don't have enough energy to set up the wards right this moment in one of the guest rooms. I'll sleep on the couch again once you're finished down here."

Well, in that case. "Then I'm going to make Rhodey proud and head to bed now. FRI, you'll be sure to tell Rhodey when he comes back about how awesomely responsible I've been, won't you?"

"Sure thing, boss," FRIDAY said with more amusement than he remembered programming in her.

(And, in truth, Tony wanted a moment alone—Stephen could potentially cure Pepper. There was hope for Pepper. Even playing with the vibranium took a back seat to this revelation, and he just—needed some time to process it, preferably with no one observing.)

Stephen shot him a wry look, though it softened into something that Tony didn't like. Before the sorcerer could say anything, he said, "Right, g'night Houdini. Don't fall asleep on your feet," and left the basement to think and, maybe, find some sort of sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> JFK is the largest commercial airport in the NYC area.


	11. All is Not Forsaken

Since he agreed to help Pepper on Monday the 24th, Stephen put the majority of his focus for the next two days towards finishing the tracking spell. The only time he deviated was when Tony insisted he put up his "fancy wards" so he could finally sleep in a bed (and he had to give it to Tony—the bed was indeed more comfortable than even the very comfy couch. Well worth the couple hours emulating Wong's wards in his new ensuite).

Other than that, he spent the weekend doing everything in his power to tie the tracking spell to the sensor he had at the Compound. His research earlier that month into how technology and magic could work together had paid off immensely, as it only took about twenty further hours of work to hit success.

It was Sunday in the late afternoon when he worked out a few minor issues and was ready to announce his success. "I've got it," he told Tony; they hadn't spoken a word to each other for hours, both engrossed within their own projects. It had made for a productive working atmosphere, with the room's soundtrack consisting of music playing in the background only broken by Tony's occasional directions to FRIDAY and his own sizzling sparks of magic.

Tony took half a minute to get out of his headspace and realize that anything had been said. He didn't look up from where he was designing something on his suit as he said, "Got what?"

"The tracking spell. I have it."

Tony looked up then, blinking. He raised his eyebrows. "That's good. I figured it would take you another week or so, what with how that other part stumped you."

Stephen shook his head. "Like I said, that was the hard part. The rest was just tying it all in together." He looked at the sensor and continued, "It seems to last about four days before it needs to be reapplied; I'll have a more accurate number in a few days. I may be able to extend it, but for now, reapplying the spell every three days will be no hardship."

"That's good to know. How long will it take you to go to the other fourteen and apply this tracking spell?"

"Not long at all." Stephen couldn't help but half-smirk. "And I really don't need to go anywhere, exactly." Still sitting down, he opened a portal about half a foot tall just in front of where he placed the tracker at the New York Sanctum. As the portal opened, he heard a beep from Tony's computer, the one that was monitoring all the sensors. He quickly set his reactive tracking spell upon it, then closed the portal and opened the next one, and then the next one. Each time he opened a portal, the computer beeped.

He could hear Tony's annoyance as he said, "Oh, that sound's going to get old fast. You said you needed to do this every three days?"

"For now, yes," Stephen said. "I'll see about elongating the time the dormant spell can remain dormant before fading completely, but it will take some time."

"Yeah—just make sure you're doing it here or let me or FRIDAY know if you're doing the reapplication somewhere else. FRIDAY will know it's you and, more importantly, I can mute the computer at your scheduled time."

"Noted."

It only took a couple minutes to cycle through all fourteen sensors and, with the last completed, Stephen leaned back in his chair, satisfied. That was one major task completed. He could start looking into elongating the time a dormant spell sat, perhaps…

"Stephen…" Stephen turned to face Tony as he said his name. The engineer had his lips pressed together in hesitation, though he straightened his stance and looked at him straight on as he continued. "Now that you've got the tracking spell done, we really have to consider how we're gonna contain Strange. You still want him alive, right?"

"Of course," he replied, feeling his heart sink. He knew exactly where this was going.

"Yeah, so, in order to do that, we really gotta make sure the cuffs work." Tony ran a hand through his hair. "I know you hate them, but I think you're the one who needs to test them. You're most like Strange for—obvious reasons."

Stephen exhaled and looked down at his hands. Yes, he hated it, he hated the thought of wearing them and being completely powerless—but he had to. He wanted Strange alive, and they were a very efficient way of making that happen. Perhaps more importantly, Tony was extending his trust to see to his fiance's mind—an incredibly vulnerable part of the human body that Stephen hadn't been sure Tony would ever allow.

There was only one answer.

"You're right. Let's get it over with."

Tony opened his mouth as if to say something, then broke it off and narrowed his eyes at Stephen. "I'm—yes, of course I'm right." He paused. "You—want to do it now?"

"Yes." To be over and done with it.

"Right." Tony cleared his throat. "One moment." He pulled up several holographic screens, including one with the schematics of the cuffs themselves, which were filled with a multitude of diagrams and layers that Stephen could make little sense of, other than that there were several chips integrated underneath the surface. Tony opened one of his drawers and pulled out the cuffs themselves—very similar in design to the ones he was forced to wear two months ago, but he could see some differences on the surface.

Stephen forced himself to relax as Tony approached with them. There must have been something in his posture or expression, though, because Tony paused about halfway for a second, wordlessly eyeing him, then continued until he set the cuffs on the table beside him. Just like the others, he didn't see how they opened. "How do you unlock them?" he asked.

Tony picked one up again and pointed to a small hole in its underside, no wider than a needle. "I have a key that will click into this. It then opens up a side panel, where you type in a passcode."

"You have the key on you?"

He responded by pulling a small, needle-like piece of metal held on a thick piece of string from his pocket. "Right here." Tony pursed his lips. "In truth, one cuff might be enough. But I'm not entirely sure. May have been more practical to make it a collar, but…" He trailed off and shrugged. "Seemed a bit dehumanizing, no matter how much I hate the bastard."

Stephen huffed something of a laugh. "Well, I appreciate it." He slowly exhaled. "I suppose you want to start with one, then."

"If you don't mind."

"I'm not sure if 'mind' is the term to use here, but needs must." He pressed his lips together, then lifted his left arm up for Tony. "Let's get this over with."

"Sure thing, Doc." Tony unlocked the cuff and, after a half-second of hesitation, carefully placed it on Stephen's left wrist, over his clothing where the metal wouldn't rub directly against any of the damaged parts on his wrist.

He felt nothing at first, but then again, he wasn't expecting to feel anything to start. He hadn't tried to perform any magic yet. Stephen stood up and looked at Tony expressionlessly. "What do you want to test first?"

"Portal?" he suggested as he went back to his computers. "Then shields, maybe."

Stephen nodded once, then put the sling ring on his left, cuffed hand as he tried to make a portal. It was like being a novice again; sparks began to form within the air but getting something up was difficult. He grimaced and fought harder, doing the motion over and over and over again. It didn't exactly hurt, fighting against the suppression of his magic, but it was debilitating in a way that magic hadn't been since his first days in Kamar-Taj.

It took several tries, but after a dozen or so times, he was able to sustain a portal for about five seconds before it fizzled out. He grimaced and started again.

"Wait, Stephen, that's enough!" he heard Tony shout, and he blinked himself out of his concentration to look at the engineer. Tony was halfway to him, though halted in his tracks when he stopped the portal. "That's enough, Stephen," he repeated. "Your pulse is starting to spike. Do you need a break? Glass of water?" A beat. "Bottle of vodka?"

He huffed a laugh. He could feel the start of perspiration on his brow with his short fight against the cuffs. "I'm fine. But I don't think my doppelganger will give up easily—so I need to push myself."

Tony gave him a look. "Just don't pass out on me. I don't want Wong casting a curse on me because you pushed yourself too far."

"I doubt he'd blame you," was Stephen's reply. "Shield was next?"

"Yeah. And do you have any offensive spells that won't set the workshop on fire?"

Stephen nodded once. "Yeah." Then he set about making a shield, first with his right arm, then with his left. Like the portal, it took several tries, about half-a-dozen for each attempt, and both shields fizzled out just before ten seconds. Interestingly enough, the fact that the cuff was on his left arm didn't seem to make a difference between the left and right arm. The effort, though, left him softly panting and the beads of sweat on his forehead became more pronounced.

"Here." Stephen looked up, and Tony placed a glass of water and wet towel on the table beside him. "Take a breather. We're still only on one cuff."

"If you're going to get anything resembling realistic results, I need to push myself," he repeated.

"That's fine, but you're allowed a water break," was Tony's dry reply. He paused. "They don't—it doesn't hurt, right?"

Stephen glanced up to see a poorly hidden concern on his face. "It doesn't," he assured him. "Fighting against its purpose is just—exhausting. If I don't try to perform any magic, it's just a light weight on my wrist."

Tony nodded. "Good." He went back to his own desk and took a drink of water. Stephen followed his lead, though his hands were annoyingly more shaky than usual and he had to be more careful with his grip.

Still, he managed, and after a short break, stood back up and told Tony, "I'll be trying to grab that screwdriver on the desk across from me. Normally this would be very simple."

Usually making an eldritch cat's cradle to whip out to grab anything _would_ be simple, but Tony's tech was doing its job and the golden lines between his hands refused to materialize or, if they did, refused to hold. In about two dozen attempts he managed to whip it out towards the screwdriver four times, and it was only the very last time that he caught it. And once more, he was breathing heavily, having felt like he ran a long sprint. He reached for the glass again, and was very thankful it was only half-full because his hands were shaking uncontrollably.

"Maybe we should call it for now," Tony said from his station.

Stephen shook his head once he had put the glass back down. "We've been at it for ten, fifteen minutes tops. And you haven't even put on the second cuff. You need that data at least to get started with any alterations, wouldn't you?"

Tony frowned at him. "Yeah, but—I can wait a bit."

"Not if Strange is picked up by the tracker tonight," Stephen shot back. "You were right; these need to be tested and fine-tuned, and I should've helped you with it sooner." Despite his distaste for them and the deep humiliation of feeling so powerless, this was something that needed to be _done_ , and he internally chastised himself for letting such feelings get in the way of his duty. He held up his right arm and gave Tony an expectant look. "We can do the same three spells with both on, then see where I'm at."

"Yeah, I'm not sure if I want you going any further than that," Tony said. "You're the sort who'll push yourself to the limit and then some, and then you'll be a grumpy, exhausted asshole as you recover from it."

He shot him a wry look. "You're so sure of that, eh?"

"You forget, I've already seen you do it with that rift thing," he retorted. "Besides, takes one to know one."

Stephen shot him a dry half-smile at the retort, then closed his eyes as Tony opened the second cuff and placed it carefully over his clothed wrist. He heard the definitive snap as it closed.

"Okay," Tony said, backing up to the holographic interfaces once more. "When you're ready, Stephen. Don't overdo it."

As he expected, trying to make a portal with both cuffs wasn't possible. But just as he expected his counterpart to do, Stephen pushed himself with a dozen attempts before realizing he needed to move onto trying the other two spells.

He paused long enough to catch his breath. "Shields next," he said, then attempted to make them. Again he gave another dozen efforts, putting all of his willpower to conjure a shield. He managed at one point to get a brief outline, but it fizzled out almost immediately; the rest of his efforts were not worth mentioning. As he ended, he felt himself getting dizzy and leaned against the table as he reached for the towel to wipe the sweat off his face with a shaky hand. Stephen didn't attempt to grab the glass of water; he knew he wouldn't be able to grasp it.

"Stephen—"

"I'm fine," he interrupted. "Just one last spell." And then he reached deep within himself to try and see if he could conjure the eldritch powers needed to form the whip.

He couldn't. His hands gave off the occasional spark and the faintest of lines occasionally came, but the cuffs did their job in effectively blocking out his ability to reach his magic.

Stephen collapsed into the chair at the end of his attempts, his breaths coming in heavy and sweat dripping down his brow. He leaned forward, forearms on his knees as he got his breathing under control. He didn't see Tony approach, but suddenly the engineer was at his side, kneeling beside him, one hand resting on his forearm. It took a moment before he realized that Tony was actually saying something.

"Sorry?" Stephen said. "Didn't—catch that."

"I asked if you needed to lay down. You looked like you were about to pass out, and I don't need to scrape you off my floor." Tony's words were light, but his brow was furrowed in concern.

"Cloak'll—catch me—before that," he said between three breaths. The Cloak had detached itself before he sat down and was hovering over Tony's shoulder in a manner that reminded Stephen of an over-worried parent. "I'm fine. Just need—to catch my breath."

Tony shot him a disbelieving look. "Whatever you say, Doc. Still, that's more than enough for me to go on. I can see if I can make them individually more effective at this point."

"Effective enough," Stephen breathed. He straightened, then leaned back in the chair, calming his breathing down. "I would be—rendered useless in one already. Or good enough."

"Well, _you'll_ never be wearing them outside of these test sessions," Tony answered with a sincerity that caused Stephen to blink and look towards him. Tony met his gaze for half a second before looking down at his wrists. "Let me get those off you."

Stephen offered him a wrist as Tony pulled out the key once more. As he was about to insert it in, however, he paused. "Quick question before I take these off: can you still do that ghost, leaving your body thing?"

He frowned and closed his eyes to see. His draw upon dimensions for their power was inaccessible, but pushing towards the Astral Dimension with your soul was not the same thing. The chair had arms to catch his body, so he'd be fine. Stephen reached down, concentrated, and _pushed_.

Oh, this was great. This was _great_. He felt free again. He—

Oh, damn it, Tony was starting to panic. The arm he was holding had, of course, gone limp as Stephen pushed out, and his head lolled slightly to the side. "Doc? Stephen! Stephen, I swear to God if you—"

"Sorry," Stephen said as he broke the veil between the two dimensions, stepping fully through with his astral form into the real world.

Tony jumped up to his feet, immediately reaching for the containment unit that sat on his chest. He stopped just before he pressed it, though, as his brain caught up with what he was seeing. Stephen could see the process in his eyes. Said eyes narrowed in a mix of annoyance and relief. "Warn a man next time, huh?"

"Sorry," he repeated. "I forgot you haven't seen the process before."

"There wasn't exactly much to see. You closed your eyes, then you just passed out. Nothing I can see on the scans, either, other than the loss of consciousness." Tony paused. "Okay, so it looks like the cuffs don't block your ghost self at all."

"Astral form."

"Whatever. Did you have any trouble doing it?"

Stephen shook his head. His astral body was currently quite a relief compared to his physical form, so he got himself comfortable by crossing his legs together as he sat in the air. He ignored Tony's raised eyebrow and answered, "There was a little more difficulty in the push, but nothing compared to trying to use my other powers. It is likely because this is an entirely different use of magic. I'm not drawing interdimensional energy through myself to wield powers like most spells require. This is just using the knowledge of the arcane in my possession to push my spirit away from my body."

Tony pursed his lips. "Alright, fine." He went back to his holographic screens. "Maybe there's a way I can monitor your unconscious self while you're sleeping versus while you're projecting, here. From there I can see if there's any sort of difference in any of your vitals and perhaps—"

"Wait," he said. He looked back down at his body, still wearing both of the cuffs. Completely defenseless and with no way to help himself with perhaps one exception. "I don't think you should try to block the ability to astral project."

He got a frown at that. "We can't have Strange leaving his body and snooping wherever he wants to go."

"Agreed," he said, which clearly surprised Tony. Stephen continued before he spoke. "But my order has a spell which will do just that, created for rogue sorcerers like Strange. Between that and your cuffs, he will be fully contained." He paused, hesitating.

Tony saw it and furrowed his brow. "What else?" he asked.

"It's—unlikely, perhaps. But there is a chance, however slim, that these cuffs or their schematics get into the wrong hands. If they do, and these individuals are not working with a sorcerer versed in our ways, people of my order will still have a chance of finding help for themselves. And then a person would be required to work with our order to fully contain one of our own, which is how it should be."

Tony looked down, lips pressed together. "It's incredibly improbable these will get out, but I can't say it's impossible. You're sure your anti-ghost spell will work?"

Stephen made a face at the term. "Yes, it will work." He and Wong would need to practice with each other; it was a spell he knew in theory, but he had never performed on anyone else. He wasn't sure if Wong had, either. Practical application—and dispelling—would be good to have under both their belts.

"Fine. I can leave it off, then. I get where your worries come from." Tony paused for a moment, thinking. "FRIDAY, whenever I do end up dying, make sure that the folder for all the schematics, coding, and R&D for these cuffs are wiped. It'd be easier to get into the wrong hands once I'm gone."

"Got it, boss."

Stephen looked at him in surprise, but Tony moved onto the next item without further conversation on that unexpected command. "I just thought of something else, another spell I saw once. Your doppelganger escaped me in Sokovia by throwing up this crazy, broken glass type wall between us. Just disappeared with it."

"Oh, yeah. That's the Mirror Dimension. I don't think I could throw that down with the cuffs on, but even if I could, I wouldn't do it without Wong here."

Tony quirked an eyebrow up. "Why's that?" He approached Stephen (well, his body) again and pulled out the key for the cuffs once more.

"Once you're in the Mirror Dimension, you need to make a portal to get out. You saw it was impossible for me to do it with both on. Should Strange even succeed, he would die of thirst inside there without his ability to conjure a gateway."

"Rough." Tony slipped the first one off his limp arm, then moved to the second. "Well, it seems we have a plan to contain him. I'll be carrying these around from now on, just so we're ready whenever he shows up again."

The second one came off, and Stephen released a breath he didn't realize he had been holding (though, for all intents and purposes, a person didn't actually _breathe_ in their astral form; it was muscle memory of your body's innate functions that just came naturally). He disappeared from the world and went back to his body, and was suddenly hit by the wave of exhaustion that still sat within it.

"Yeah, you still look like you're going to keel over," Tony said.

Stephen replied by creating a small mandela the size of his outspread fingers. He smiled. "I'll be just fine."

* * *

Today was the day. All the nurses were cancelled, no other doctor visits were happening, and at that moment, Stephen was reviewing all of Pepper's medical information and brain scans done with both the usual medical technology and Wakanda's more advanced imaging. They were expected at any time now.

The waiting at this point, when Stephen's examination was so close to happening, was driving Tony slightly insane. He did his best to keep his cool by working on refining the protocols in the magic-blocking cuffs as Stephen reviewed everything before they left.

"If every hospital in the world had this Wakandan technology," Stephen said as he looked over one of their scans, "the room for error in neurosurgery would decrease significantly. This detail is amazing." He flipped to another scan. "And the surgery her medical team was able to perform in her thalamus is very good. As good as I was, even, and I don't say that lightly."

"I can believe that," Tony said in turn.

Stephen gave him a wry look, then looked back at the scan. "While the technique was excellent, the technology they used to heal the neuroinflammation is unknown to me, and I didn't see anything in my review of medical journals the last couple days. Did her doctor bring in her own team from Wakanda?"

"Yeah. They flew here in the summer for the procedure."

"Fascinating. I would love to know how they did it. To my knowledge, the technology simply doesn't exist." Stephen flipped to another scan. "This anomaly in the reticular formation, though—I imagine that if anything arcane is keeping her within a coma, it's related to this. I'll be examining this part of her brain today."

Tony looked from his holographic screens to Stephen; he had reached the last of the files. "Okay. Are you ready to go?"

Stephen took one last look at the scan in hand before closing the folder. "Yes. Do you have a photo ready?"

"Naturally. I have a still from the security cameras in the hall outside the penthouse." He looked back at the holographic screens as he added, "Pepper didn't want any cameras inside the apartment. Said FRIDAY was enough." He was willing to compromise for her, of course, but that small missing security did make him a bit antsy. Thank God for Happy. Speaking of. "Oh, before we go—I had the nurses take off, but Happy's still with her."

Stephen's brow furrowed in thought. "The name sounds familiar. You must have mentioned him at some point."

"Probably. Happy Hogan. He used to be my driver-slash-bodyguard, then head of Stark Industries' security here in New York, but since Pepper's attack, he's been here, keeping an eye on her. Hasn't taken a day off."

"It's rare to have friends like that."

"Yeah, I owe him a lot."

Stephen paused. "What did you tell him about me? What is he expecting?"

Tony shook his head. "All I said to him was that I was coming back on the 24th and bringing a doctor that may know something about her condition. Didn't want to get into details over text."

"Fair enough." Stephen looked down at himself. "I should probably wear something different, then."

"I'm not sure anything of mine would fit…" Tony started, but trailed off as Stephen's clothes shifted shape and color in front of his eyes from his usual blue robes to a light blue dress shirt, black pants, dark gloves, and polished leather shoes. "Right, you can do that, too. Why am I surprised." He jutted his chin towards the Cloak, still looking very much like a cloak as it hung from his shoulders. "That sort of ruins the casual look, though. Sorry, Red."

Stephen brushed his hand against the trim on his shoulder, which had the Cloak detaching itself from him. "Tony's right. You are more suited for a sorcerer than someone playing the part of a doctor again."

The Cloak tilted its collar to the side as if in thought, then suddenly it—transformed, very much like Stephen's clothes just had. The collar shrunk and the shoulders extended into sleeves as it turned from an asymmetrical cloak into a symmetrical long coat. A very red one with very fancy embroidery and gold buttons, but still a coat.

"Huh," Stephen said. Tony spared him a glance; he looked just as surprised as he felt. "I didn't know it could do that."

"Do you think your old one could, too?" he asked as Stephen slipped his arms into the cloak-coat.

"No idea." He straightened it out. "How's it look?"

"Clashes a bit with the dress shirt. Can you change colors, Red?"

The Cloak remained red.

Stephen smirked down at it. "Well, if it can, it doesn't want to."

Tony waved an arm. "If Happy asks, I'm just telling him you're red-green colorblind and you think it's grey."

"Kind of you," was his dry reply. "If you're ready?"

"Bring on the portal, Doc."

Stephen obliged, and Tony stepped on through from the Compound to his penthouse apartment in New York City. To Pepper. Stephen followed, and he could hear the portal closing behind him.

"Sorry about the temporary malfunction in your security camera, by the way," Stephen said as Tony pulled out his keys.

Tony paused and turned to frown at him. "What did you do to my camera?"

"Nothing permanent. Just a momentary loss of footage about this time that the building's security won't be able to retrieve."

"Rude. Wong didn't do that at the Compound. Hell, even Strange left my cameras alone."

"Wong knew that the only person who would review that footage was you and possibly Rhodey—considering you didn't hand me over to the government, it wasn't likely you'd hand over that footage, either—and Strange keeps his features hidden with that shadow spell, and neither your company nor the CIA would leak it to the Internet. Two very different circumstances."

"Still think it's rude," Tony shot back as he unlocked the door and let himself in. "I'm here, Happy!" Stephen followed him inside, though looked around the room from where he stayed by the doorway as Tony crossed the space and went around a corner to find his former bodyguard.

Happy emerged from the hallway a quick moment later and, without reserve, gave Tony a big hug. "It's good to see you again, Tony."

"Yeah, 'course," he answered, for not knowing what else to say. He was no good with emotions, and knowing Pepper was just down the hall was already getting to him. He quickly shook himself out of it as much as possible and instead went straight to business. "Like I said, I brought a doctor with me who might be able to help."

"Is it someone else from… abroad?" Happy asked. He meant "Wakanda", of course.

"Nah, he's—local." Well, barring the reality difference, he was. "Come on in, Stephen!" he called. Stephen came into view. He stayed to the left and just behind Tony, though Tony shifted his body so he could see both Stephen and Happy. "Happy, this is Doctor St—" He suddenly cut himself off as he realized that Happy was one of the only other people who knew Pepper's attacker's name was Strange, even if he didn't know what he looked like. And Tony was _not_ prepared for that conversation, not when Pepper was in the next room and Stephen needed to see her rather than go through a long explanation and Happy's suspicions and character analysis.

Stephen immediately caught the issue and thankfully picked up the conversation smoothly. "Please call me Stephen," he said.

Happy had known him long enough to know that something wasn't entirely right, but thankfully didn't press it. "Pleased to meet you, Stephen," he said as he brought up his hand to shake, and oh _fuck_ they hadn't thought this fully through.

Tony knocked Happy's hand aside by stepping in between him and Stephen before Happy could so much as finish raising it. "Oh, sorry," he said. "I'm just—can we go see Pepper now?"

Happy's brow furrowed and he frowned at Tony, but to this request he couldn't say anything but, "Yeah, of course, Tony." With one last weird look at him, he turned around and led them through the short hallway that led to her door. "She's through here, Doctor," he said to Stephen.

"Before we continue," Stephen said with a glance at Tony, before looking fully at Happy. "I wanted to inform you, Mr Hogan, that while I am a doctor, the reason Tony believes I may be able to help Ms Potts is due to my familiarity with the powers used by the man who attacked her. You'll see me do things that you may have never seen before. Tony is well aware that my methods of examination are unusual and has consented to it. Ms Potts won't feel a thing."

Tony knew that Stephen was trying to reassure Happy, but if Happy's growing concern was any indication, it wasn't quite doing the trick. Happy turned his gaze from Stephen to him, and Tony sighed. He just wanted to _get started_. "What he means is that it's gonna get a bit str—weird, but the attack was weird so we need weird."

Happy's concerned look wasn't going away, though, so Tony tried another tactic. "Do you trust me, Happy?"

"What? Yeah, of course I do."

"Then trust me when I say you can trust Stephen, no matter his weirdness. I'm opening the door now." With that, Tony took a deep breath and entered the room. He could hear Stephen and Happy behind him.

Normally the room served as their bedroom, with a large king bed, sleek black furniture, and a view of Manhattan most would die for. For the majority of the year, though, it had served as a hospital room for Pepper. To one side was the Wakandan medical tech that helped diagnose and then fix one part of Pepper's injured brain. To another side was the usual accoutrements of a hospital room: heart monitor, blood pressure valve, an IV pole, and other machinery. The curtains were currently open, showing a cloudy sky with blotches of blue and the sun just managing to shine through.

Maybe that was some sort of sign. He hadn't been one for signs before, but then aliens appeared and magic became real and it had become hard to distinguish between fiction and reality.

He turned away from the window to look at the greatest reason he kept fighting the aliens and other evils that came to Earth; the greatest reason he didn't give up on hope. "Hey Pep," he said to the silent form that was but a shadow of his fiancé. His strong, stubborn, intelligent, kind, patient, beautiful Pepper. "I brought someone to meet you. Stephen, this is Pepper."

Tony nodded to Stephen, and Stephen approached the bed on the other side. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Pepper," he said to her, as if she could hear or respond or do _anything_. "I'm a doctor. I used to be a neurosurgeon and I'm quite familiar with the workings of the brain. I have another calling now though, something that makes me uniquely equipped to understand what may have happened to you. Tony has given me permission to examine you to see if I can see what's going on within your mind."

Stephen talking to Pepper like this was causing Tony's heart to squeeze in painful hope. He talked to her like she was still there, like she still had a sound mind and was still _her_ and could come back from this. Tony wanted to pace, to flee, to find somewhere where he could scream and cry—but he forced himself to remain beside Pepper as Stephen began his examination. The sorcerer closed his eyes and placed his left hand on Pepper's brow.

Tony heard Happy gasp from the doorway as both of Stephen's hands lit up. He kept his left hand upon her as his right formed a series of lines and patterns in the air. It quickly took on a familiar figure; Tony had made himself well-acquainted with the anatomy of the brain so he could keep up with Pepper's doctor, so he could clearly see that Stephen was mapping out a small portion of the brain, the brainstem and the thalamus.

The glowing lines in the air began to multiply as Stephen placed more detail in specific sections, as if he were drawing straight from an anatomy textbook. Tony was able to put labels on some of these sections due to his own obsessive studying that year, but it then went into further anatomical details than even he didn't know as Stephen expanded into areas by widening his hand before penciling them in with his orange magic.

The process took some time. Tony didn't dare say anything; he forgot to ask Stephen if talking would interrupt him. He also forgot to ask if he could hold Pepper's hand, so as the examination continued to drag on, he went into one of the drawers in the room and pulled out one of his stress balls he had stashed away just for times like this. It kept his hands busy while his eyes remained only on Pepper, Stephen, and his magic drawing of a brain— _her_ brain.

By the time Stephen made a sound, even Happy had gone through his various stages of suspicion to acceptance of the weirdness and was slouched in a chair, watching. Tony had bounced back and forth between sitting and pacing, but at that point was walking small circles on his side of the room, squeezing the stress ball with the beat of his heart. At the loud exhale from Stephen, though, he pivoted and walked back to the bed.

Stephen's eyes were open again. Little beads of sweat dotted his brow and he blinked a few times before focusing upon Tony. "Sorry. I need a moment."

"No, no, it's fine—you've been going for over an hour," he replied, and that was the only statement he could manage before he demanded, "What did you find? Can you fix her?"

The doctor exhaled and with a wave of his hand, spun his glowing diagram in the air, then zoomed in on an area located about the midbrain. Another wave, and a part of the diagram pulsed. "It's in this part of the reticular formation that the anomaly within the reticular activating system—or RAS—originates from, and what appears as some sort of lesion on the Wakandan machinery." He waved his hand once more, and the glowing extended across several web-like formations that interconnected throughout the reticular formation. "The RAS is a series of interconnected nuclei—clusters of neurons—that goes throughout the brainstem, but includes pathways to the cortex. It's responsible for governing basic functions, including consciousness.

"What I can see that the Wakandan machinery could not," Stephen continued, "is that the so-called lesion created within the reticular formation is malignant. I see lingering magic spreading through the RAS, interweaving with the fine threads of nerve fibers and between the individual neurons in each nuclei. Its spread has been slow, considering the length of time that has passed since she was wounded. It likely means that these effects are unintentional."

"I don't give a fuck if it wasn't intentional," Tony snapped as his panic grew; Stephen was stalling and he hadn't answered his most important question. " _Can you fix it?_ "

Stephen seemed to stare straight into his soul with his look. "I will not guarantee what I do not know for certain, but I am going to give you the best I have to help her."

He scrambled for that bit of hope. "But you know what you need to do to fix it, right?"

The sorcerer's eyes left Tony's to look back at his diagram. "Theoretically, yes. I had never examined a brain like this," he gestured to his creation, "but in ways it is easier to navigate. It allows the sort of microsurgery that is currently impossible to perform, and all without needing to make any incisions. But," he continued before Tony could say more, "the entanglement is complex. I need much more time to fully map out all the pathways this—tumor, if you will—has taken across the RAS. I would also like to bring in another Master who is better versed in healing mystical wounds for a second opinion, and possibly as an assistant if its removal needs to be done at once, rather than in bits."

"Yeah, bring whoever," Tony said as he felt his hope grow even greater, tempting mistress that it was. "What's the game plan from here?"

"Mapping the pathways of this invasive magic, first and foremost," said Stephen, straightening in his chair. "I'm afraid it will take some time; if I work on it every day for…" He pressed his lips together. "Four hours, perhaps. Then it may take two, three weeks, if I manage to map out four to seven neural networks a day. It depends on how far along across each individual network it's spread." He exhaled. "I wish I could work faster, Tony, but I think four hours is all I can spare while still being prepared for Strange, whenever he appears again."

"Strange?" Happy said, and Tony had all but forgotten he was there. He swerved around as Happy narrowed his eyes at Stephen in thought. "Stephen Strange was the name of the guy who attacked Pepper, wasn't he?"

Stephen closed his eyes and nodded once. "Yes."

"I'll explain later, Hap," Tony cut him off before he can ask more questions. He ignored Happy's incredulous look to ask Stephen, "Right, okay. A couple weeks of mapping, fine. Then you perform this magic surgery?"

"It depends on what I find after I'm fully done mapping her brain, and after my consultations with Master Wu. She'll likely want to see Pepper for herself."

"Yeah, like I said, fine," Tony said. Weeks. Weeks was _so long_ , right when the answer seemed to be _right there_ , but Stephen made sense. Of course he had to keep himself ready for Strange, for whenever the fight could occur. "That's fine. I'll go over Pepper's schedule with Happy—see when she has spots open. Work with your schedule."

"Barring any emergencies like the rift two weeks ago, my schedule is fully focused on Strange and his works, which makes her recovery one of my priorities," he answered. "I can work around whatever hours you have for her doctors and nurses."

"Cool, great. Okay." He exhaled, then walked over to Happy. "We—we should let you get back to it. Let you work. Do you need anything? Water? Coffee? Does coffee make your magic more effective, because I swear that's what it does to every synapse in my brain."

Stephen offered the glimpse of a smile. "Water's fine. Just leave it on the dresser; I'm going to get started again, if you're done with your questions."

"For now, yeah," said Tony. "I need to, you know. Get Happy up to speed." He tugged on his arm, and Happy got the message and hauled himself up. "I'll leave the door open. We'll be in the living room."

The sorcerer nodded and placed his hand again upon Pepper's brow as he closed his eyes. His hands glowed once more, and he saw the hovering diagram begin to move once more just as he half-dragged Happy out of the room.

"Fuck," Tony breathed out as they reached the living room. "He might be able to do it. Fuck, Happy, it sounds like he can do it." He disliked the swell of emotions filling up his chest. Fuck, he couldn't get his hopes up, not yet. Not until Stephen was more sure. But fucking fuck, he couldn't help it: his hopes were soaring. There was _hope_ , real hope for the first time in months. "Is this what a Christmas miracle is supposed to feel like? I can see why it's so hyped up."

"Tony," Happy said, the tone dragging his eyes back to the disgruntled-looking bodyguard. "Look, I'm glad that we might have a breakthrough here—but I'm not stupid. You cut yourself off from saying Stephen's full name, and it didn't come to me until just then, but that guy looks a lot like Strange, who I remember was _also_ a former neurosurgeon. _And_ he has weird magic powers?"

Right. "Okay, first, I'm going to get Stephen a glass of water. Then I'm getting out a bottle of scotch, because it's Christmas Eve and this story is really fucking weird, and you're going to need most of it."

"That's just fantastic," was Happy's deadpan answer.

Oh, he had no idea.

* * *

It was 2 a.m. on Christmas day, and Tony stared at the flip phone sitting on the nightstand from where he lay in bed.

It had been a day, an amazing day. Stephen had dragged himself out of Pepper's room after four hours of mapping her brain, and Happy had ordered an insane spread for Christmas Eve sometime earlier for all of them to have for dinner, and they ate and drank and, as Stephen showed off little magical nonsense to Happy, Tony really felt as if for the first time in a long time, things were going _right_.

They eventually portalled back to the Compound and Stephen had retired early. Tony had tried to work on anything that he could—the cuffs, with the vibranium, any of his suits—but he couldn't focus on anything for long, not after everything that happened.

And just like always, he had carried the flip phone on him during the day, then threw the phone on his nightstand before dressing for bed, just as he did every day since Pepper was attacked. Usually he ignored its existence and something else kept his mind floating in the insomnia space on tough nights.

But that night, for the first time in a long time, it was the phone that kept him awake.

Stephen made a good point the other night, about setting his own terms when reconnecting with the others. It was only a matter of time before they'd need everyone to defend the Earth, no matter what personal matters they had between them. And if he understood Stephen's awe over what the Wakandan technology had managed for Pepper, well—that was something. That really meant something.

He exhaled. Slowly he reached out for the phone and then flipped it open.

Time to extend his own olive branch. And hell, if there was any day of the year to do it, it would be Christmas.

After a moment of thinking, Tony kept it simple. _Merry Christmas_ , he texted, then sent it off.

It only took a few minutes to get an answer back. _You too. Everything okay?_

Oh, there were loads of things he could say to that. But he kept it simple, simple for this first touch point, his first step in communicating with Steve again. _Yeah. No alien wormholes here._

_Okay. If you need me, let me know._

Tony turned off the phone after that. It wasn't much, but it was a start.

And he felt okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're more of a visual learner, image searching for the reticular formation for simple diagrams may give you a better idea of all the insane brain stuff.
> 
> Not a neurosurgeon, just a Master at Google-fu. If I got something wrong about the anatomy/workings of the brain, feel free to let me know where the error is though!


	12. Interlude - Let the Shadow Permeate Your Mind

A waning half moon shone down upon the country of Honduras on the last evening of 2018, but its light did nothing to penetrate through the thick jungle that made up the mostly untouched wilderness of La Mosquitia in the easternmost part of the country. As the largest bit of wilderness in Central America, it was also believed by many Hondurans and history enthusiasts to be the home of the legendary lost city of La Ciudad Blanca. In more modern times, archeologists were split as to the actuality of this historic city. But with a hostile, untamed landscape largely traverseable by only water or air, its discovery continued to evade explorers.

It made La Ciudad Blanca a perfect spot for someone looking to hide from the rest of the world.

Stephen Strange made it one of many locations he kept his stash of uranium and arc reactors, and it became his primary hideout after the Sokovian location was compromised. Still, he liked it less; the humidity in Honduras was absolutely unbearable, even in the dead of winter. While he could open a window portal to anywhere for a different air flow, it wasn't the same as living elsewhere with a proper, changing climate. And it was times like this that he missed the distinct seasons of New York.

Still, beggars couldn't be choosers, and he was well aware he was a wanted man—the October incident had rattled him in a way that he hadn't been rattled since the Masters of the Mystic Arts turned against him.

The interior Strange had made his primary dwelling within the ruins of La Ciudad Blanca was small, about a twenty-foot square area that had his bed and some of his books. Other books, the majority of his research, and items of more importance were kept in a pocket dimension opened in this room. Other than that, he also had the basic supplies needed to survive—large water jugs, stores of food, medicine.

It was the medicine he bothered with now. With a grunt he sat down and carefully unwrapped the bandages around his torso (opting to use his hands, as still and steady as they used to be—though he could never go back to neurosurgery. Not now, not after all he knew). The final wrap of bandaging gone, he carefully lifted the dressing off the wound to take a look.

It looked about the same as it did yesterday. One of the magic blasts he aimed at the soldiers protecting the power plant had rebounded and hit him, which shouldn't have been a big problem. It would be painful, yes (and it was painful), but a killing wound, no. Despite the unfortunate casualties in his fights the last year and a half, they were never caused directly by his spells. He _never_ used spells that would instantly kill a person. _He wasn't a killer._

( _You are._ )

But the wound he currently had— _this_ would kill a person without the arcane knowledge needed to heal it. It wasn't supposed to do that. Strange suspected that the spell was affecting him this way due to the several different energies he was harnessing for his magic; the energy coursing through his body was demanding a toll in return, despite his constant fight to find a workaround, to avoid paying what the universe demanded.

And thus far the price for his magic showed itself as this wound. It was caused by a spell that would produce a hit that, under normal circumstances, left a normal man needing a hospital visit but still allow him a full recovery within two, three weeks. A sorcerer would need no hospital and have a full recovery in less than a week. But no, when the spell hit his body, the magic _lingered_ in a way it was not meant to within his wound, spreading like a cancer when it could, making it a daily fight the last two weeks to keep it at bay. He was starting to get the upper hand, finally, but he estimated it would be another two to three weeks before he was fully recovered.

The injury left him time to think. More often than not his thoughts strayed to the October incident.

One part of the October incident that Strange thoroughly condemned himself for was his lack of research and thus, foresight. He knew that the CEO of Stark Industries was an unexpected, unfortunate victim in his hit on their research department ( _no one was meant to be there!_ ) and he figured that Stark would be on good terms with her, and he was wary of that. But his complete disinterest in anything relating to celebrity gossip had made him unaware of the fact that the CEO was not just a friend of Stark's, but his _fiance_. He only discovered that afterwards. That oversight was entirely his fault. He would have operated with more caution this year had he known that.

But the second—rather, the main—part of the October incident he could have never predicted. A version of himself from an alternate reality? More so—an alternate version that _fought_ him? That worked actively against his efforts to protect his world, his reality? He would have called it impossible, that no Stephen Strange would do such a thing, had it not happened.

His doppelganger should not be a problem any further—that Stephen was nearly dead by the time he left him, and Stark wasted all his time chasing him and would have missed those vital moments to stop the bleeding. That Stephen had no chance.

( _You_ murdered _him._ )

Strange hissed as he applied another coating of a strong antibiotic cream to the top of the wound after washing the area. He needed everything he had, both mundane and magical, to fight it. His spell was not supposed to rebound, but those German soldiers had a new sort of shield, ones he had never seen before. He wouldn't be surprised if Stark was behind those. He grimaced at the thought as he applied on a new length of dressing and bandaging to his torso.

Still, the wound proved to him something that he had begun to suspect ever since the ability to maintain all three Sanctums sharply spiked in difficulty in November: his body could not permanently handle the power sources he was using now. The enriched uranium of power plants and the arc reactor cores were man-made and not sources of energy happening naturally within the multiverse. The human body could endure channeling natural energies, and while these man-made energies helped increase his overall capacity for magic, it was not a viable long-term solution.

That led him to his current object of interest. Strange tied off the bandage and stood to approach one of his pocket dimensions. He opened it and pulled out with both hands a large brass pot about four feet wide and two and a half feet tall. It usually stood on a stand within the New York Sanctum, but almost immediately after his confrontation with the other Stephen Strange, he had done a long sweep of everything within the New York Sanctum and found that, unlike everything else (that wasn't magically dust-resistant), the Cauldron of the Cosmos had a disturbance in its layer of dust, indicating some movement or use that the other items had not seen for over a year. Further research into the Cauldron later revealed it as the most likely item that had brought the other Stephen Strange to this reality.

And with that research he got to thinking. The primary purpose of the Cauldron was to monitor across the multiverse for mystical threats. But somehow his counterpart had used it not only for its intended purpose, but to cross _through_ the multiverse to come here. To achieve that, some sort of opening would be needed.

What if he could make that opening? If one Stephen Strange did it, then he certainly could (and the fight alone revealed just how much more powerful he was compared to his counterpart, so that would not be an issue). What if he could not only maintain an opening, but draw from the natural powers held within other realities? It would not be the same as drawing power from other dimensions, but he knew it could be done.

( _And you know the negative side effects for that other reality._ )

Strange shook the thought from his head. It was an unfortunate consequence. But _his_ duty was to _his_ Earth, _his_ reality. He couldn't begin to worry about other realities, or he couldn't serve as a practical protector of his own.

And if that meant another reality had to suffer in return, then so be it. Doctors had to make hard calls in times of triage. He had before, and he would do it again.

He would do everything within his power to protect his world. Anything. And so Stephen Strange opened the pocket dimension to his books and research, and began his studies once more as the midnight moon turned to 2019.

It would, indeed, be a very happy New Year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's that for the fourth story in the series! This part of the series was really for building up the relationship between Stephen, Tony, and the others and to allow both of these men to begin to heal their own wounds and/or insecurities so they can be better prepared for the challenges that are coming up. That leaves them in a better place for me to hit them with further challenges in the next story as they try to solve everything going on.
> 
> The fifth story in this series will be the final one and will very likely be longer than this story (probably 70 to 100k words, if I follow my current habits in underestimating chapter counts - this story was only supposed to be 6 chapters and about 30k words long, to give you an idea haha). I am aiming to have it out before the end of the year; it's my primary project once my current WIP up is done, and that is coming around very quickly right now.
> 
> If you want to be alerted for when the fifth story of the series comes out, you can set up alerts for this series by going to the main series page and clicking "Subscribe". Or, if you prefer, you can follow me and my shenanigans over [on tumblr](https://aelaer.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Thanks for reading and I hope to see you around for the conclusion of the series!


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